


Too Busy Being Yours

by thisgirlnani



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7682221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisgirlnani/pseuds/thisgirlnani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sansa Stark insults her ex-boyfriend Joffrey and tells him she's much better with her new guy - in front of a dozen paparazzi. The only problem is she doesn't have a new guy. Enter Jon Snow, her brother's awkward best friend who she hasn't spoken 10 words to since Last Christmas. Sansa's a budding actress, so pretending she's happily a dating a stranger shouldn't be that much of a challenge, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mad Sounds

It had been that damn paparazzi, outside of La Traviata, who had started the whole mess. Sansa couldn’t catch a glimpse of his face, because as soon as she stepped out, bright lights from his camera had nearly blinded her. She was still blinking white circles out of her vision when he had yelled at her. “Sansa! Sansa!”

  
Shae had taught her the simplest way to get away from paparazzi. Pull hood over face. Head down, and walk fast. After her ugly (and very public) break-up with Joffrey, she had become something of a spectacle for the paparazzi, hoping that another incident would blow up if they followed her long enough. Her teeth grinded together, _like hell, she would ever be publicly embarrassed like that again_. She began to pull up her leather hoodie around her red curls when the pap stopped her short with another flash of his camera.

  
“Sansa! What do you think of Joffrey’s new girl? Margaery Tyrell?”

  
Her blood ran cold, and an image of Joffrey’s twisted smile flashed in her mind. She answered the paparazzi silently. _I’m glad he’s onto his next plaything. I hope this means he’s done sending me vile text messages_. She jammed the hoodie over her head and began walking swiftly towards where her driver had parked the car.

  
The paparazzi only followed right behind her, unperturbed at her chilly reception. “Do you and Joffrey still talk? He says that you’ve talked things out.”

  
She forced herself to give a smile. “No comment.” Her stomach churned uneasily; thinking about Joffrey always made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t wait to get back home, she didn’t even care if her mother lectured her for the thousandth time for leaving the house without security.

The pap sped up beside her. He stopped right in front of her path, camera swinging around his fleshy neck. There were more paparazzi behind her, but this one seemed particularly persistent. Sansa could see the car just on the outside of her periphery. She moved away from the man, impatiently. “Excuse me.”

She could hear him snapping another picture from behind. _Asshole._

“One more question, Sansa!” he grabbed at her shoulder and she instantly recoiled. “What do you think about the fact that Joffrey’s moved on so fast? You said you loved him! Do you feel angry? Betrayed?”

Sansa felt light-headed and she stopped in her tracks, a foot away from the car. She could see her driver, Howland Reed, looking expectantly at her through the windows. But the thought, of going home was now far away, like a distant echo. She could only think about Joffrey and his beautiful blonde hair and ugly heart. She had thought she loved Joffrey, Sansa thought bitterly. But she had also been a stupid foolish girl who couldn’t see past a charming smile.

  
“I don’t feel angry or betrayed.” She snapped back. _Shut up, Sansa, don’t say anything_. She couldn’t find it in herself to take her own advice. She was tired of Joffrey telling the press lies about her, while she was instructed by Shae and her mother to lay low. “In fact,” _Stop talking!_ “I’ve got somebody new, so if Joffrey has somebody else, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass.” Her bravado quickly disappeared as she realized what she had just done. She spied an iPhone in the pap’s hand – it was turned on and he was recording her.

There was a pregnant pause- and then a storm of questions came rushing in, with the cameras going off at rapid-fire and the paparazzi swarmed closer, demanding to know the identity of her new boyfriend. Howland, rolled the window down. “Miss Stark! Get in the car!”

  
He didn’t have to tell her twice. She let out a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding, shoved the door open, slid in and slammed it shut. She could still see the flash of cameras through the tinted glass, but at least the loud voices of the paparazzi were somewhat muted.

  
“That wasn’t smart, Miss Stark, engaging those vultures like that.” Howland put the car into drive and expertly steered clear of the horde of paparazzi. “What did you say to set them off like that? If you don’t mind me asking?” He glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

  
Sansa’s throat was dry, and she struggled to reply. She could only think of Shae and her mother’s anger that was sure to come. Her fingers curled into a fist, and her acrylic nails bit into the sensitive skin of her palm. “You’ll find out soon enough in the papers, Howland.” She replied, hollowly.

* * *

  
“ _Wolves and Lions at it again: Sansa Stark tears into Joffrey Lannister!_ ” Shae flung the tabloid papers down onto the oak dining table. Her face was flush with anger and her black curls, that were normally styled flawlessly, were askew and frizzy. _Right on time_ , Sansa noted. After the incident last night, Howland had drove her straight home. He had seemed to notice her agitated state and kindly, offered to let her in through the service entrance, to avoid detection by her mother. She had gone straight to sleep, dreading this exact moment.

  
Sansa nibbled at her toast and poked at the egg yolk on her plate. She didn’t dare look directly at Shae, for fear of being burned by the intensity of her anger. Instead, she took a glance at the tabloid paper, eyeing the photo that had been used. She almost didn’t recognize herself, rarely was she photographed looking anything but composed. Her mouth was open in anger, and the paparazzi that had provoked her looked every part the victim. She scoffed in disgust.

  
Her agent’s mouth screwed in a tight line. “Why, Sansa? We have worked so hard to stay away from the tabloids, you don’t need to give any more reason to those movie producers not to hire you!”

  
A pit formed in her stomach, Shae was right. Although it had felt good to publicly put Joffrey on blast, this incident would once again, probably only end up hurting her. “I didn’t even say anything that bad.” She mumbled, pathetically.

  
Shae’s charcoal eyes narrowed. “The press- and America- never sees it like that. People will always be looking for an excuse to tear you down.” Her tone eased into a gentle manner. “I know it hasn’t been easy listening to Joffrey lie about you to every tabloid outlet out there. But the best thing for you to do is just to l-“

  
“-lay low.” Sansa finished, with a barely concealed roll of her eyes. “I know, I know. Anything else?”  
“Yes,” Shae pulled out her phone, distractedly. “The thing about you having a new boyfriend,” she looked directly now at Sansa. “I’m assuming that’s false.”  
Sansa twisted an errant strand of hair out of her face, “I was just trying to get him angry.”  
Shae snorted. “Don’t blame you.” She hummed, “It wouldn’t be bad though if you did, it would help with all the rumors about your obsession with Joffrey.”  
She fought the urge to laugh. No one would ever want to date the crazy girl whose heart got broken by Joffrey Lannister. The media and the machinations of her ex had succeeded in painting her as a broken girl.

  
The jangle of keys and creaking of hinges, as the front door opened, broke Sansa from her reverie of self-pity. She glanced past the columns, just in time to Arya playfully smacking their older brother, Robb across the arm.

  
“Jesus Christ, Robb.” Arya hissed. Her tone held no malice, and she had a little smile on her face. “Next time, I’m driving!”

  
Robb only scoffed, his handsome features quirking into a smirk. His blue eyes lit up as he caught sight of Sansa sitting in the kitchen. “Ah, the lady of the hour!” he crowed. Arya looked up and followed Robb’s gaze. Her grin only widened as she too, saw Sansa.

  
She groaned internally. Their wide smiles only meant one thing: they had seen the tabloids. She snuck a glance at Shae and saw a disapproving look at the two other Stark siblings. Sansa snorted, well, if Shae expected Robb and Arya to be as upset as she was, she was in for a sore disappointment.

  
Her sister pulled out one of the sleek dining chairs and plunked down. “So, how did it feel to tell off Joffrey to the whole wide world?” Her wide brown eyes, sparkled mischievously. “You know there was a hashtag going around?”  
“Of course there was.” Shae muttered under her breath.

  
Arya waved her off. “Oh Shae, please. Sansa is always a proper lady.” Her sister snickered. “She’s never done anything half this exciting since she was 5. Give her a break.”

  
Sansa’s heart swelled with rare affection for her little sister. Although they hardly got along, she could always count on her little sister to back her up when it come to her sentiments regarding Joffrey. When the Joffrey incident had first happened, Sansa had locked herself up in her room, crying for hours on end, and Arya had been the first of her siblings to dare to approach. She had brought lemon cakes and swore to kill Joffrey the next time she saw him.

  
Robb chuckled heartily, “Bran thought it was quite brilliant as well.” He gestured towards Sansa’s plate of half-eaten toast and egg. “We missed you at breakfast.”

  
“Sansa,” Arya frowned at the contents of her plate. “It’s almost 1.”

  
“Egg and toast is multi-functional!” Sansa protested. “It could totally be lunch food. Anyways, where is Bran?”

  
Shae spoke up. “Meera took him for a fitting. Mrs. Stark wanted him to get a new suit for the Winter Gala. I ran into them as I came up to the house.” Meera was Howland’s daughter and also worked for the Stark family as Bran’s caretaker. The girl was younger than Sansa but she was skilled and Bran had liked her the best out of all the candidates for the position.

  
Arya slumped down, groaning. “Ugh, I nearly forgot about the Winter Gala. What a wretched tradition.” Sansa smirked, it had been this way since they were little kids. The Winter Gala was a tradition started by their mother and father when her father inherited control of the major film corporation, ‘Winterfell’. It was an annual grand event that had always dazzled Sansa when she was a child where big names in Hollywood came to mingle with one another. For any budding actor or actress in Hollywood it was a dream to be invited to an event like this, the potential to make career connections was limitless.

  
Sansa glanced up at Robb. “What about you? Don’t tell me you managed to escape mother’s annual fittings?” She teased.

  
He grinned, “I escaped by the skin of my teeth. I told her I didn’t need a new suit, last year’s would work just fine.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sansa saw Arya make a face of mock horror. “Of course, she insisted, so I compromised. I told her I’d go get a fitting, but I’m going with Jon this year.”

  
Arya made kissing sounds, fluttering her eyelashes. “The two of you should just get married already.” Sansa giggled as Robb flipped Arya off. Jon was Robb’s best friend and also happened to be the front man of ‘The Night’s Watch’, an indie rock band that had recently reached mainstream success. It wasn’t like Sansa could ever forget, when the album had charted first, Robb had boasted about it for a good week, as if he himself had written the songs.  
The two of them had met in college, when Jon’s band was still playing small gigs at bars, and they had been inseparable ever since. Robb had told Sansa that Jon grew up under the foster care system and didn’t have a family to return to for break. So Robb, in his typical, noble spirit, brought him to Thanksgiving with the family. It had alarmed Catelyn, who had been under the impression that this was son’s way of coming out. When she had said so before giving grace, Sansa remembered that Jon turned scarlet and Arya choked on her bread roll, gasping for air as she laughed so hard that tears streamed down her cheeks. Since then, Jon and Robb’s close friendship had been the butt of many jokes whenever the family was together and Jon popped up in conversation.

  
“Jon’s coming over soon, actually.” Robb looked at his watch. “Can you open the door when he comes? I’m going to go shower real quick.”

  
Sansa nodded. “I’m not going anywhere,” She gestured over to Shae. “I’m probably on house arrest after last night.”

  
Robb smiled sympathetically before moving past to head upstairs. Sansa turned towards her little sister. “What about you? Are you going anywhere?”

  
Arya shrugged carelessly. “I’ve got fencing practice with Gendry.” Arya was a fencing champion, many people believed she was on the way to the Olympics and Sansa didn’t doubt it for a second. She had been too one of her sister’s matches, and though she didn’t know much of the sport, she would have to be blind to not see what a natural her sister was.

  
Her sister’s success in the sport had been the catalyst for her trying out acting. It seemed as though everybody had their role in the family. Robb was groomed to be their father’s successor. Arya was a budding Olympian, and their younger brother Bran was seen as somewhat of a tech wiz, interning at various Silicon Valley businesses, while still in high school. That had left her and Rickon, who hadn’t done anything of particular significance. Rickon was of course too young, still in middle school, nobody expected much of you when you were that young. On the other hand, Sansa was out of college, and everybody wondered what her special skill was. So she had gone into acting. But so far, Joffrey was making that very difficult for her.

  
Almost on cue, her phone came to life, vibrating nosily against the silverware. The number had no name attached to it, but she recognized the number immediately. _Joffrey._

  
Arya looked over curiously, but Sansa snatched it up. “Excuse me.” She mumbled, before stumbling up, to move into the foyer. Her heart was thumping wildly. No doubt he had seen the news by now. Was he calling to berate her? She could already hear the sneer in his voice. Don’t pick up. The phone continued to vibrate wildly, and Sansa once again found herself at odds with her own advice. She wanted to know his reaction. She wanted to see if he was hurt or as angry as she still was. Her finger swiped the touch screen, and she lifted the phone to her ear.

  
“That was quite the outburst last night, Sansa.” His tone was genial and grating to her ears. To her bitter disappointment she detected no anger or hurt in his voice. He was playing with her. He seemed to always have the upper hand with her.

  
“So you saw it.” She replied airily, her voice sounded shrill to her ears.

  
“The whole world saw it. You always lacked subtlety with these things. Mother was kind enough to show me this morning. You upset her.” That made Sansa feel better. She hated Joffrey’s mother almost as much as she hated Joffrey himself. When they had still been dating, Cersei had little pet names for her, little bird, little dove. It made her feel so vulnerable as if Cersei was labeling her as prey.

  
Sansa glanced back at the kitchen. Arya had disappeared, and Shae was in an animated conversation on her work phone. “Well, I’m sorry if I upset your mother. Tell her, I’m oh-so-sorry.” Sansa’s voice took on a saccharine-sweet tone. “But, that still doesn’t explain why you’re calling me.”

  
There was a pause on the other end. “I wanted to know if it was true.”

  
“If what was true?” she replied, impatiently. She was already starting to regret picking up the phone. “That I don’t give a rat’s ass about you and Margaery? That shouldn’t be surprising.” Sansa took pride in the strength of her voice. She always felt braver when his jeering face wasn’t in front of hers.

  
“No, you idiot.” She could hear the barely restrained anger in his voice. Her blood was turning hot with anger too, at his insult. He always liked to call her that. He liked thinking she was just a dumb, foolish girl. “The part about you dating somebody else. Who’d you manage to twist your way into bed with?” He demanded, crudely.

  
Sansa flushed, half with anger and half with embarrassment as she remembered her lie. “None of your business, Joffrey.” She hissed.

  
“So, you made it up.” He accused, haughtily. “You’re angry I’m dating Margaery-“

  
A bitter taste surfaced on Sansa’s tongue. She hated him so much. She hated what he had done to her, what he had let him put her through. Sansa felt the lie bubbling up and suddenly it was out in the air. “I’m happy with somebody else now. If you can’t believe it, you’ll see for yourself at the Gala.” Her heart thumped so loudly, she could hear it pulsing through her eardrums. With that, she slammed her thumb against the ‘end’ button.

  
_Shit._

  
Sansa tossed the phone down as if it had scalded her. She couldn’t believe what she had just done, Catelyn Stark would have been horrified to see her perfect, eldest daughter behaving in such a way. Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose, and settled onto the steps that lay directly in front of the front door. She had never behaved so rashly. Arya was the rash and reckless one, but Joffrey always managed to get under her skin, unnerving her in the most unpleasant ways. And now, she had let him do it again, and this time she was going to pay for it.

  
She pictured herself showing up to the Gala in a month, with nary a boyfriend in sight. Joffrey would have a good laugh about that and so would the press. They would know she lied, they’d paint her further as a crazy, obsessed ex-girlfriend who no one wanted after Joffrey had used her. Maybe Joffrey wouldn’t go? _Idiot._ Of course he would go, his family headed one of the most affluent talent agencies. When they had still been dating, Joffrey scoffed when she had told him of her plans to go together with coordinated colors. He had hated the idea and only went because Cersei had insisted. There was no doubt he would attend this year, especially after she egged him on.

  
A sharp knock came at the door, breaking Sansa out of her reverie, and jolting her upright. She looked up and saw through the frosted glass of the front door a mass of black curly hair. She recognized the person immediately. Jon.

  
Suddenly the solution to her problem came to her. It was a ridiculous, terrible plan, but it was the only feasible solution she could think of. She barely even knew Jon. Their interactions had always been short and painfully awkward. He wasn’t much of a talker and back when she was in college, she could hardly be bothered to stop and try to make conversation. After all, he was Robb’s friend, not hers. But she knew that he was kind, and perhaps that would be enough for him to agree to this plan.

  
Sansa moved mechanically to the front door and pulled the handle, swinging the heavy door open.

  
Jon stood there, hands jammed into a thick, fur-lined jacket. It had been nearly a year since she’d last seen him and she noted with some surprise that he had grown a beard. His black, curly hair that had always been unruly, was longer and now pulled back in a bun at the nape of his neck. His eyes shifted up, and he blinked in surprise as he saw Sansa standing there.

  
He cleared his throat, absentmindedly, scratching at his beard. “Robb didn’t tell me you were back. Should have figured though from the –“he cut off abruptly, flushing red. So he had seen the news about her outburst, already. Good, that would save time.

  
“Jon.” Her tone was low and urgent and that grabbed his attention. He stopped shifting his weight, and his dark eyes focused on her expectantly.

  
“I-I couldn’t think of anybody else, I need your help.”


	2. Do Me A Favour

Sansa rarely had one-on-one conversations with Jon Snow, let alone had she ever asked favors from him. It was true she often saw him, especially when she had still been in high-school and Robb came back for the weekends, with Jon in tow. But it had been Arya, not her, who chatted easily with him, turning his sullen expression into one of quiet fondness.

Arya and Jon’s easy camaraderie had never greatly bothered Sansa. It sometimes irked her that a stranger could get along better with not one but two of her siblings, however, it was understandable. Arya and Sansa were like night and day, both in appearances and personality. Jon, was better at relating with Arya, and every time he visited them, Sansa saw the longing in his eyes for a family that was just like theirs.

“You need my help?”

Jon looked half-alarmed at the urgency she had just displayed. His dark eyes were sharp and focused, waiting to hear her request.

“I-“Sansa stammered, feeling a flush creep up her neck. All the bravado and confidence had disappeared and left her wondering if this was the worst decision yet.

She let it all out in one breath. “I need you to date me.”

Jon blinked. His eyes widened and his mouth parted in confusion, as though he wasn’t sure if he had heard correctly. “I’m sorry?” he managed.

Sansa let out a small hiss of impatience as she glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Robb, Arya and Shae were still unaware. Shae was still on the phone, but she couldn’t take any chances. Turning on her heel, she gestured for him to follow her. Jon was still gaping, but he followed dutifully as she led him into her father’s home office.

She shut the door with a labored sigh and turned around, her back leaning against the door, tiredly. “Look, I’m sorry for springing this on you, I know this is so out of the blue, I just didn’t know who to ask.”

Jon took a seat on one of her father’s leather ottomans. His jacket crinkled nosily as he crossed his arms. His left hand reached up to scratch at his beard, absentmindedly. “Does this have to do with what happened last night, with the paps?”

Sansa nodded. “It kind of has everything to do with last night.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I really messed up.”

His dark eyes softened, “Start from the beginning.”

She sighed, taking a breath. “I was leaving _La Traviata_ , stupid me, of course. Who goes there, unless they want to be photographed?  And then, there was a really persistent pap,” she paused and Jon nodded encouragingly for her to continue.  “And he and a couple other paps followed me to the car. Howland was there and I was doing really well until, he asked me about Joffrey.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jon’s jaw tick. She was secretly pleased at that. After her breakup with Joffrey, Robb had wanted to go over to the Lannister’s mansion for a ‘friendly’ chat and Jon, to her surprise, meant to go along as well. Of course, once they headed out, they were both sharply rebuked by her mother. Nothing had happened to Joffrey, but Sansa still appreciated the thought.

“Anyways, I was just so angry. They were egging me on, and they asked me about Margaery, Joff’s new girl.” Sansa’s fists tightened in frustration. “I just hate that he’s happy with somebody and I’m ‘laying low’ waiting to do something with my life.” She slumped down onto the carpet. “I told the press I had a new guy, out of spite. It was stupid, I’m never reckless like that.”

Jon gazed at her intently. “And I’m the only single guy, you know?” His tone was soft, but it wasn’t warm either. _Idiot, don’t you think he has better things to do than to go around parading as your boyfriend?_  

Sansa felt small all of a sudden, underneath his gaze. “I didn’t know who else to ask.” Her relationship with Joffrey had cut her off from all of her past friends. When they had been dating, he had been irrationally jealous and controlling of every moment. “I understand if you don’t want to, after all we’ve never been close.” She trailed off in embarrassment. There was a heavy pause, and Sansa could only look up at Jon, unsure of what to say next.

“You know,” he started, slowly, “You didn’t mention any name, if you just wait a few months to say you’ve broken up with your mysterious guy. The press would never know a thing.”

Sansa bit down on her lower lip. “Joffrey called me this morning – right before you came. He knew I was making everything up. But, I told him to come to the Gala to see for himself.”

“You haven’t blocked that bastard’s number, yet?” Jon’s voice hardened. “Does he bother you often like that?”

She shook her head, momentarily taken aback by the protective tone in his voice. Jon probably felt obliged to, as her brother’s best friend. “This is only the second time he’s called me since our breakup.” The text messages were a different story, but Jon didn’t need to know about that.

He was silent for a moment and Sansa twisted the material of her sweatpants uneasily. “I’ve got a tour coming up, so I’ll be pretty busy-“

Sansa’s heart sank, unable to hide the disappointment.

“-but, I’ll do it.” He looked apprehensive and kept rubbing at his beard. There was a small smile tugging at his lips.

It took a full 20 seconds for his words to sink in. She leapt up to throw her arms around his neck with a squeal, “Thank you, thank you, Jon!” He awkwardly reciprocated with a gentle pat on the back. His touch brought her out of her initial jubilee and she remembered herself, pulling away with a grin. “Sorry!” she laughed, feeling lighter than ever now that she had a solution to her Joffrey problem.

“It’s ok,” he chuckled. “If we’re going to pretend to date, we might as well start with a hug.”

Sansa hummed in agreement, “It will just be for a couple months, we can have dinner here and there, go to the gala, but after that, we can break up, and go back to normal.” It would be nice, Sansa reasoned. She could stick it to Joffrey while also spending time with a friend.

“What about Robb or the rest of your family? Do you want to tell them about this plan of yours?” There was worry in his tone and Sansa could only imagine he was thinking about Robb’s reaction.

Sansa mulled it over. It would probably be easier to explain to her family her plan rather than explain how Jon and Sansa went from awkward acquaintances to boyfriend and girlfriend, but Sansa also knew that the Stark household had a problem with information leaks to the press. Sometimes a sibling would accidentally slip here and there, or a recently hired worker would be eager to dish out information for a quick payday. “Not just yet,” she decided. “The more people that know, the more of a chance some information will get out.”

Jon groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Your brother’s going to be an utter pain about this, I’ve heard him threaten all your past boyfriends – Jesus, Sansa, you owe me one.”

She snorted, “Robb’s a pain about everything. But yes,” she patted his knee, “I do owe you one, Jon Snow. I’ll be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever had.” She grinned up at him, and when he smiled back at her, she felt all the worry about Joffrey melt away.

 

* * *

 

Sansa pulled the door open to Manderly’s Tailoring with a touch of fear. She had been dreading seeing her mother since last night, but Shae had insisted that she meet her mother and Bran at the tailor shop. So, Sansa had put on a casual grey dress and bid Robb and Jon goodbye, shooting the latter, a conspiratorial smirk. They hadn’t said a word to Robb. Much to Jon’s relief, Sansa had decided that they would only speak to him once they made some sort of public appearance together.

But now, Sansa had a separate problem – her mother. She saw her almost immediately. The matriarch of the Stark family was endowed with sharp, gorgeous cheekbones and soft, auburn hair. Sansa was the child that took after her mother’s features the most, and she was glad for that. Her mother was busy, tapping away on her smartphone – a device that she had been reluctant to embrace, but now could not bear to part with.

Sansa stepped forward, reluctantly, clearing her throat, “Where’s Bran?”

Her mother looked up, appraising her for a few seconds before neatly putting her phone away in a shimmery clutch. Sansa moved forward to kiss her mother’s cheek lightly. “He’s trying on his fourth suit. I haven’t liked what I’ve seen so far.”

“And Meera?”

“She’s in there, helping him. I had to take a call.” Catelyn looked at her daughter expectantly. “It was your father, he wanted to know the details from last night.”

Sansa momentarily considered playing dumb, but the idea was gone as soon as it appeared. “I know what the papers make it look like – Shae showed me this morning. He was harassing me about Joffrey, I got upset.”

“The paparazzi are nothing new, sweetie. They always show up, eager for information, but I’ve told you time and time again to never say anything.” Her mother reached out to rub her shoulder, gently, though her tone was firm.

She huffed irritably, “I _know_ that. It’s Joffrey! He gets under my skin, mom. Robb, Arya, even dad knows that. It won’t happen again.” It was a hollow promise, both Catelyn and Sansa knew.

Catelyn looked at her disapprovingly. “I don’t blame you for what the paparazzi did, but you should have still had security with you. Howland told me one of them grabbed you.”

Now, that was Sansa’s fault. She had left, thinking it wasn’t necessary. The Stark children hardly ever utilized security for going out, they were mainly for press events. The paparazzi had almost never been abrasive with her, but last night had been different. She hadn’t been that terrified, however, she knew Howland would have come to her aid. “I know, that was stupid of me, Sandor insisted, but I told him not to.” She confessed.

Her mother’s blue eyes narrowed, “Sandor isn’t paid to listen to you. He’s paid to protect you.”

“And he will. Next time, I go out to somewhere like _La Traviata_ , I’ll have him right there.” She reassured.

“Sansa, now is the time to be on your best behavior. With callbacks going on right now, you can’t give producers a reason to choose some other girl for a role that could be _your_ big break.”

 _I know that_. Sansa fought the urge to roll her eyes. She was currently auditioning for the role in a film franchise. Franchises meant recognition and recognition meant success. Shae and her mother had always incessantly reminded her of that fact. It wasn’t as though acting was something she disliked, but the pressure that came with it was definitely something Sansa could live without.

“Sansa!”

Bran’s bright voice came from behind their mother. Sansa glanced over her mother’s shoulder to see Bran, looking very dapper, rolling out of the dressing room. Meera, and an employee for the tailor shop followed closely behind looking anxiously at Catelyn for approval.

Sansa lit up, going over to lean down and embrace him, happily. Although she returned home a week ago, he had been gone at a summer camp and this was her first time seeing him since. “I don’t believe you know where my little brother is?” she teased. “He wears nothing but wrinkled polos and scuffed tennis shoes and I can’t seem to find him.”

He grinned, “He’s dying to get out of this suit.” He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Please tell mom, she’s crazy. This is my fourth suit and I’m about to roll myself out of here and just hitchhike it home.”

“I’ll try.” She whispered back, before straightening up. “Bran looks rather handsome in this suit, doesn’t he, mother?”

Their mother took a step back to examine Bran’s appearance. Her lips pursed thoughtfully, before giving a curt nod. “It’ll do.” Meera, the employee, and Bran all gave a collective sigh of relief. “It’s a little loose around the chest, make sure you pay special attention to that in the measurements.”

“By the way,” Bran whispered lowly, “I saw what happened in the tabloids. I’m glad as hell you have somebody else, I hated Joffrey’s ass.”

Sansa squeezed Bran’s hand, fondly. _You and me both_.

“Do we get to meet the new guy?”

The question took Sansa by surprise. He was the first of her siblings to ask, the other two assuming it had been an outright lie. Sansa glanced over at her mother, she hadn’t heard anything, in deep conversation with the employee about Bran’s suit. “Maybe.” Sansa answered vaguely.  “Honestly, it’s a very new thing. She shifted the subject with ease, “How was tech camp?

“Great!” Bran enthused. He gestured to his suit, “I miss it already, what with mom going crazy with Gala preparations.” He grumbled.

“You’ll survive, kiddo.” Sansa’s phone vibrated, “One second, Bran.”

She pulled out her phone, surprised to see the name attached with the new message. _Jon Snow_. She angled her phone, subtly away from Bran to make sure wouldn’t accidentally glance down and see who she was texting. Admittedly, it wouldn’t be that odd to be texting Jon, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Swiping the screen the message popped up: ‘ _Dinner at 7, Thurs? ‘_

Sansa replied back immediately. ‘ _Yes!’_

_‘We going incognito or public?’_

The answer was obvious to Sansa, she wanted Joffrey to know as soon as possible that he had messed with her for the last time. ‘ _Public. Very public. Mastro’s Steakhouse, I’ll get us a reservation.’_ A triumphant smile began to spread over her lips, and as an afterthought she texted Jon again, ‘ _Please wear something other than that leather jacket, I always see you in.’_

His reply came swiftly and as she read it, she would have burst out laughing had Bran and her mother not been there:

‘ _I don’t know if I own anything like that. On a scale of 1 to 10 how pissed do you think Robb would be, if I wore something of his to a date with his sister?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support! I am seriously so blown away by the response. Here are the ages of the characters if you're curious!
> 
> Jon/Robb: 24  
> Sansa: 22  
> Arya: 18  
> Bran: 17  
> Rickon: 13


	3. Stop the World

Thursday came too soon for Jon’s liking. To be quite honest, he was dreading his date with Sansa. His reasons, however, had nothing to do with Sansa. Only a blind fool would be reluctant to go on a date with Sansa Stark (fake or not).

Jon remembered when he had first met Sansa at the Stark’s Thanksgiving dinner and had embarrassedly stared at Sansa for a good half of the meal. There was no denying her pretty looks, but three things stopped Jon from ever pursuing anything serious. One, she had still been in high school. Granted, there was only a two-year difference but he didn’t want to come off as the creepy-older-guy. Two, she was Robb’s sister and three, she was Robb’s sister.  

Robb had complained to Jon of Sansa’s poor taste in men a few times. Once, they had been at a friend’s house party and Robb was tipsy. He tended to be mouthier after he had a drink or two, and his rants tended to be about his family. _Sansa keeps dating those pretty boys. I keep telling her they’re empty waste of spaces. She wonders why they always hurt her, why they don’t care as much._ Robb had scoffed in disgust as if he couldn’t care less about his sister’s problems. But later that night, after they left the party, Jon had overheard him in a phone call with Sansa. He had been comforting her in a hushed tone. _Sansa, he doesn’t deserve you. If he tries that again, I’ll come after him, I swear it._

Back then, Robb’s words had filled Jon with pride and amusement for how brotherly Robb could be. Now, they filled him with dread. He already knew Robb would be livid once he found out that he and Sansa were ‘dating’. If Robb was one thing, he was deathly protective of his siblings. He understood why Sansa didn’t want to tell Robb or her family of the truth, but the looming reality that they’d have to confront that problem when it came, made his head ache.

He internally cursed how easily he had agreed to Sansa’s proposition. It had been very hard to say no to Sansa Stark and her wide blue eyes. Jon had a soft spot for the Starks, it was undeniable. Plus, he couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to see Joffrey’s reaction.

Jon sifted through his closet with a critical eye. Sansa had said not to wear his leather jacket or anything of a similar vein, which quite honestly, invalidated nearly half of his wardrobe. He pulled out a blue sweater and threw it onto his bed. He had no idea if this was what Sansa had wanted, but it wasn’t leather so that had to count for something.

Nearby, Jon’s phone came to life. He craned his neck and saw Sam’s photo flashing on the screen. Sam was Jon’s second best mate after Robb. They had met in college at a local concert where Sam had performed a drum solo. Jon had asked him to join the band, after their old drummer had left, and they had been close ever since. He already knew what Sam was calling about, and he contemplated just letting it go to voicemail. He felt bad though, and reluctantly answered.

“Jon! Tormund said you couldn’t make it to the get-together tonight?”

He suppressed a sigh. When he had texted Sansa asking if she was free Thursday, he had forgotten that there was going to be a party in celebration for the upcoming album release and tour. He hadn’t wanted to change it last minute, and to be quite honest, he didn’t really want to go anyways. The party was going to be at a club and a lot of the attendees would be members of the press. To say that wasn’t his scene would be an understatement.

“Yeah, I have – something.” Jon replied, lamely. He couldn’t lie to save his life, and almost all of his friends knew it.

“Something?” Sam’s asked, incredulously. “This is the pre-album release party! We can’t have a _Night’s Watch_ party without the lead singer, that’s bad press.”

Jon snorted. “Since when did you care about the press, Sam?”

Sam breathed out in clear exasperation. “Jon, what could be so important –“

“Sam. Trust me, its fine. It’s the _pre_ album release party. I’ll be there for the real thing, I just have a previous – engagement.” ‘ _I’m pretending to be Sansa Stark’s bloody boyfriend so I can’t go to the damn party_ ’ was what Jon had half of a mind to say. _Also, I have no idea what to wear.  I feel like an 11 year old girl about to go to her first middle-school dance._ “I’ll try to swing by later, no promises though.”

“You’re a dumbass, Jon.”

Jon smirked, “Love you too, Sam.”

* * *

 

Howland pulled up to the front of Mastro’s Steakhouse; his gaze flickered to the mirror as he eyed Sansa in the backseat. “Do you really want to eat here, Miss Stark?”

Sansa shrugged, “I was in the mood for steak.” She, of course, knew what Howland was referring to. Mastro’s Steakhouse was practically a hunting ground for paparazzi. At her mother’s insistence she had brought Sandor. Her bodyguard sat in the front seat, grunting, as he spotted a few paparazzi, already gathered at the entrance.

Howland signed in resignation. “Should I pick you up in 2 hours?”

She shook her head, “I’m meeting somebody for dinner. They’ll take me back home.” Jon had agreed to come separately, but they decided it would make for more scandalous news if they left in the same car.

“And Sandor?”

“He’ll be coming with me, of course. There’s room in the car.” She responded, matter-of-factly. Her mother could have whatever issues she wanted to have about her dating Jon, but at least she had listened and brought Sandor for safety.

“All right.” Howland nodded, unlocking the door.

Sansa stepped out of the car, her black heels clicked nosily against the pavement. Sandor walked in front of her assuming a protective stance. As she neared, the paparazzi took notice and their cameras went off excitedly.  “Sansa! Sansa! Do you have any more to say to Joffrey? Who’s the new guy?”

She didn’t bother to grace them with any comments. Instead, she neatly smoothed down her beige skirt and shot them a look of polite disinterest. _Stick around after dinner for the real show._

As she entered the restaurant the maître d’ recognized her immediately and smiled widely. “Miss Stark! We’re delighted and honored you’ve chosen to dine at Mastro’s tonight.”

Although the restaurant was quite lively, Sansa could hear the buzz of whispers at her arrival. It wasn’t as though as she was majorly famous, but her family was prominent and she was easy to spot with her bright red hair and tall stature. “Is my table ready?” Sansa asked, airily.

“Yes,” the maître d’ blushed, “your guest is also here.” She added.  Sansa smirked. She could only guess what the maître d’ thought about Jon Snow and Sansa Stark having dinner together, just the two of them. “Come this way, Miss Stark.”

Sansa followed, with Sandor trailing close behind. She had reserved one of the more private areas, but there was no doubt to be some patrons of the restaurants that would be trying to take discreet pictures. Sansa spotted Jon, though he was hard to make out in the dark lighting of the restaurant. He sat languidly, but when he also caught sight of her, he stood to pull out her chair for her. She gave a small smile, pleased with how chivalrous he was already acting. Sandor hung back, content to hang around the entrance.

“Here you are.” The waiter handed two menus. “Can I get anything started for you two, or do we need a few minutes?”

 Jon nodded. “A few minutes would be great, thanks.” The waiter’s head bobbed and he moved to another table.

An awkward silence came over the table and Sansa glanced over at Jon. He looked nervous, his thumb and index finger brushing over his beard. This was how their interactions in the past had gone. Jon was terrible at small talk, but that was no excuse now. Sansa was determined to break through his exterior. If they were going to pretend to date, they had to at least be able to have a conversation.

“You look nice.” She started, with an easy grin. And he did. He had forgone the leather jacket as she had requested and worn a navy blue and white striped sweater. She glanced down to see distressed jeans and suede boots. It was a nice outfit, even by Sansa’s meticulous standards.

“Ah, thanks.” He cleared his throat. “You look nice too – I mean you look great.” He added hastily. Her beige ensemble consisting of a tight skirt and cashmere sweater only helped to emphasize her fiery hair and cobalt eyes. If she had been pretty 6 years ago, she was stunning now.

Sansa smiled. She found his awkwardness a bit endearing. It was a refreshing change from the charming, smooth-talkers that she so often dated. She felt more at ease when she knew he was just as nervous about this as she was. “I’m glad you took my advice. I see you didn’t have to raid Robb’s closet.” She added, cheekily.

His lips quirked into a half-smile. “I hope the no-leather thing isn’t something for all of our dates? Otherwise, I’ll be wearing this one outfit for all our outings.”

Sansa giggled, shaking her head. “I just thought it would be nice to see a different side of you. I know we haven’t spoken much, and I feel terrible about that. I feel like I kind of just brushed you off whenever you came by.” She confessed, and looked up at him. “Forgive me?”

He looked puzzled, “There’s nothing to forgive-“

She rolled her eyes, a small smile playing at her red lips. “Forgive me, Jon.”

“All right.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, as he smiled. “Though I don’t suppose it was easy, what with me, always being sullen.”

Sansa’s blue eyes glinted in the dim light. “True,” she allowed. “Anyways, I heard from Robb and saw some stuff on the news that your band’s got a new album coming out.”

Jon nodded. “Yeah, that’s why we’re going on tour in a couple of weeks. Did you like the last one?”

A flush came to her cheeks as she realized with embarrassment that she hadn’t exactly heard his last album in its entirety. She only knew the most popular single, ‘ _Baby I’m Yours_ ’ as it was played on the radio, Robb’s car, and even at the mall on occasion. The family had gone to his concert last year, but Sansa had been busy with something Joffrey-related and had missed out. _Jesus Christ_ , _you’re a terrible person, Sansa._ She made a mental note to listen to the album and also the new one coming out.

He noticed her hesitation and chuckled. “You haven’t heard it, have you?”

She cringed, “I know, I’m terrible. Robb’s played it a billion times in his car, but I haven’t listened to the whole album just yet.” Sansa bit down on her lower lip, “Not exactly going to be winning any girlfriend-of-the-year awards, anytime soon, am I?”

“It’s all right,” he reassured, a mischievous look came into his dark eyes. “I figure we’re even, since I haven’t seen a single thing you’ve acted in, either.”

Sansa feigned a look of horror, earning a snicker from him. They ordered their food soon after. When they got their food, a steak for each of them, complete with creamy mashed potatoes and artfully arranged greens, she learned Jon despised vegetables. She teased him about it with a pithy, _what are you, 5?_ To which he merely grunted and slid the stalks of asparagus over to her plate.

The dinner was surprisingly enjoyable. Of course, it hadn’t been without its awkward pauses and lulls in conversation, but all in all, Sansa found Jon’s company pleasant. He was sweet with a unique, dry sense of humor. He had trouble starting conversation, but she found that if she initiated the right topic, his discomfort melted away.

Two hours later, their meal wound down. Sansa had been too full for dessert, although the lemon cakes on the menu looked absolutely delicious. Jon had paid, insisting that it would be odd if they split the bill for a date.

“Do you want to go now?” Jon gestured toward their empty dishes. She nodded and they stood up. Sandor joined them as they proceeded towards the stairs. She felt the nerves began to set in, but she mentally steeled herself. All she had to do was walk out with Jon. The paparazzi and social media would handle the rest.

Sansa breathed deeply. Just as when she had arrived, there was a buzzing of whispers as they descended down the stairs. Only now, it was louder. Little tidbits of chatter floated in the air and made their way to Sansa’s ears. _That’s Sansa Stark! And Jon Snow...you know, of The Night’s Watch? I didn’t know they were close. They’re not, he’s close with her brother. Do you think they’re dating? She bounced back real quickly after Joffrey Baratheon._

Her blood went cold at hearing Joffrey’s name, but almost immediately she felt a reassuring pressure on her shoulder. Jon was right behind her, his chest bumping against her shoulder and his beard tickled her ear. “You can always change your mind.” he murmured. “I don’t mind.”

Sansa shook her head, grinning playfully. “If I didn’t know any better, Jon, I’d think you were dumping me before our first date was even over.”

There was no hesitation in Jon’s eyes as he reached for her hand. He did it so abruptly that Sansa felt her heart quicken - which was absolutely stupid. She reminded herself that it was only Jon - Robb’s awkward best friend who was doing her a favor and nothing more. His fingers interlaced with hers and she felt her nerves calming down. They were now only steps away from the exit and she could make out the glinting cameras of the paparazzi.

Sandor pushed open the wide, gleaming doors and it was as though time had slowed down. There was a small crowd of paparazzi, and their attention immediately fell on them. It was almost silent as their eyes went from their faces and slid down to their entwined hands. Then everything came barreling at full speed as the paps rushed forward, clamoring to get a good picture. Sandor grunted and extended his hands, keeping Jon and her safely behind his arm span.

“Jesus Christ,” she could barely hear Jon mutter under his breath. He pulled Sansa closer, making sure she was shielded from the brunt of the crowd.  

 _“Jon! Jon! Are you and Sansa dating? How long has this been going on_?”

Jon barely acknowledged them with a slight nod of his head, but it was enough to create a wave of excitement as they grew louder, demanding more information. Sandor growled at the congestion, pushing forward to get to Jon’s car. Sandor’s impressive size, parted the crowd, and they made it to the car with ease. Jon opened the door for her and she slid in.

One of the paps stopped Jon before he could get in the car, “Do you have anything you want to say to Joffrey?” She couldn’t see Jon’s face, but he moved the car door so it was almost shut closed - cutting her off from his response. She could see pap’s face through the tinted window. It was one of disbelief as though he couldn’t believe Jon was even gracing him with a response. Sansa almost couldn’t believe it herself. She knew from Robb that Jon hated talking to the press.

When Jon slid into the car beside her she gave him a look; her eyebrow arched. “What’d you say?” she asked, curiously.

He ran a hand through his curls, “Nothing, really.” he replied, dismissively.

Sansa gave an indelicate snort. “You’re a terrible liar, Jon Snow. Whatever,” her red lips curved into a wicked grin. “I bet there’ll be a video of it on YouTube by tomorrow morning.”

His ears flushed bright red. “I-I was just sticking up for you.” Jon grumbled.

Jon’s awkwardness was terribly endearing. At the back of her head, she wondered why she had always seen it as uncomfortable in the past. It was fun to see him blush and stutter. Sansa couldn’t help but to compare him to Joffrey. The blonde Lannister had always been self-assured and she had never seen him flustered. Joffrey never got flustered – he just got angry and vitriolic.

“Thank you, Jon.” She paused, pulling a stray red curl behind her ear. “I know this whole thing was a weird request, but you still agreed and you’ve been really great about it.”

Jon shrugged. “It’s no skin off my teeth, really.” He paused, looking solemn. One favor, though?”

“Of course.”

“When Robb finds out – we’re going to say you asked me out first-” Sansa punched him hard on the arm.

“Christ,” he hissed. “I’m serious, Sansa. You can’t have a fake boyfriend if he’s dead because of a protective older brother.”

“Shut up, Jon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I'm so grateful for all your guy's support. Reading all your nice comments really makes my day! I wrote the beginning more focused on Jon, so you can kind of see how he thinks about all of this. I can't believe I have never written a fake dating fic yet, because it's literally my favorite thing ever. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :)


	4. Only Ones Who Know

Jon Snow & Sansa Stark: Revealed to be Dating!

_Jon Snow, front man of the indie rock band, ‘The Night’s Watch’ and Sansa Stark, actress and socialite, have been reported to be dating!_

_Just a week ago, we reported that Sansa Stark had blown yet another fuse and publicly raged about her ex-boyfriend, Joffrey Baratheon. If you recall, Sansa Stark has quite the reputation for these public outbursts. Nearly 8 months ago, Baratheon and Stark were recorded fighting in an upscale restaurant in Beverly Hills. After this incident, the two announced their split. Baratheon has stated multiple times in interviews that Stark was ‘crazy’ and he had been ‘forced to break it off’._

_It seems Jon Snow did not get the crazy memo as the two were spotted dining last night at Mastro’s Steakhouse. Stark had announced publicly that she had moved on and it seems as though Snow is the latest boy toy. Although the two arrived separately (as pictured above), the two left the restaurant together, holding hands and were all smiles._

**_[SUBSCRIBE NOW to get access to our high-quality pictures of the new couple and more exclusive information!]_ **

_When asked if he had anything to say to Joffrey Baratheon, Jon Snow reportedly replied: “Sansa’s an amazing girl and it’s a shame some people can’t see that.” We can’t wait to hear what Baratheon has to say about that! Snow’s reply comes as a surprise to most as he is almost infamous for being reticent to speak to the press about his personal life. Perhaps love does change people, after all._

_However, Jon Snow is no stranger to the Stark family, being close with the Stark’s eldest son, Robb. An inside source reported that the Jon and Sansa have known each other for a long time and just naturally grew closer. The source revealed that they have been dating for a while now, but wanted to keep quiet to avoid attention._

_It seems they couldn’t hide their love for each other anymore! Time will only tell how long this new couple will last, but we’re betting any relationship that includes Sansa Stark is just a ticking time bomb._

* * *

Sansa was woken up, courtesy of a pillow, being smacked square into her face.  She was too startled too be angry, but once she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and saw Arya standing at her bedroom door, she sat up indignantly. “What the hell?”

Arya’s brown eyes narrowed before she tossed her phone at Sansa.

She reached out to grab it – but missed. It hit her square in the knee and she hissed angrily in pain. Sansa could feel her temper rising bit by bit. Arya and Sansa always had bad moments and this was potentially another one of them. “What could be so-“she paused, the image on Arya’s phone stilling her body.

It was a picture of her and Jon from the night before. Her first thought was surprise at the quality of the image and then shallow pleasure at how good she looked next to Jon. She had never really thought about it, but Jon was admittedly good-looking. Certainly, she had a very specific type that Jon did not fulfill, but it didn’t stop her from appreciating his looks either way. _Eat your heart out, Joffrey._

Sansa’s phone buzzed nearby and she glanced over with apprehension. Her lock screen was flooded with messages. She saw Bran’s name, her mother, Jeyne, and at the top was a message from Shae. “TEXT ME BACK ASAP.” Another one right below from her read: “IF YOU’RE DATING JON, I NEED CONFIRMATION ASAP.”

She shoved the phone underneath her pillow with a grimace. Arya still stood at the door, her foot tapping impatiently on the hardwood.

“You and Jon? The picture’s real, is the story real?”

Sansa was quiet, contemplating which route to take in this conversation. The silence only seemed to further peeve Arya, so Sansa quickly settled for, “I-I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Arya’s mouth widened in utter disbelief. She plopped down onto Sansa’s bed, with a gasp. “Sansa, you’ve always hated Jon! You think he’s dull and boring and now you’re _dating him_?”

“I never hated Jon.” Sansa winced at Arya’s words. It was certainly not glowing praise for how she had acted towards Jon in the past. “It’s true we’ve never really clicked in the past – but it’s different now.”

Arya frowned, “Last Christmas, you guys didn’t even look at each other. You got everybody a present but Jon.”

Sansa flushed bright red. “I didn’t know what to get him! I asked Robb, but he said not to get Jon anything.” She retorted, defensively.

Her sister still looked doubtful, “Well, when did it start then?” Her nose wrinkled. “Please spare the gross details.”

“I mean-“Sansa internally scrambled for a believable tale. Stupidly, she’d forgotten to come up with a blanket cover story that they could both just recite when it was needed. “He was really sweet after I broke up with Joffrey. You know how he wanted to go with Robb to egg the mansion.”

Arya rolled her eyes impatiently. “Jon’s done tons of sweet things for you in the past and you’ve barely bat an eye. What was different about this time?”

It was Sansa’s turn to frown. “What? Like what?”

“Seriously, Sansa?” she scoffed. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember all the times he helped you with your homework or drove you and Bran to my matches.”

“That’s just how Jon always has been.” Sansa insisted. Jon had always been kind to all the Starks – Sansa was no special exception. Arya gave her a strange look and Sansa realized it sounded as though she was refuting Jon’s feelings for her. She hastily added, “But, I never realized that till now. I guess it took going through Joffrey for me to appreciate Jon.”

Her little sister’s brown eyes softened and she sighed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to come across as angry about it. It’s just – _weird_.”

Sansa giggled. “Well to be fair, it was weird in the beginning for me too.” _It still is_ , she added silently.

Arya gave a rare, little smile. “He’s better than that bastard Joffrey, and that’s all that matters.” She declared. Her eyes narrowed, “Just please don’t have gross PDA or make moon eyes at each other.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that with Jon.” Sansa paused before adding, “He’s shy – you know that. I was the one that asked him out first.” _There, happy, Jon?_

“Typical Jon.” Arya stopped suddenly, the corner of her lips lifted in a wide grin. “Wait. Does Robb know yet?” Sansa fell back onto the bed with a groan, cueing Arya’s gleeful laugh. “Oh, you two are so dead.”

* * *

 

Sansa was granted a sweet reprieve when she discovered that her father and Robb had left for the airport on a red-eye flight. She had forgotten that the two were going to be gone on a short business trip and her mood considerably lightened. Robb was going to be a pain – but she could handle him over text. So far, she had yet to receive any messages, but she knew that once he found out he would have no issue spamming her phone.

She had Howland drive her to Rodeo Drive for some shopping before meeting up with her friend Jeyne for lunch. Jeyne was the daughter of one of the executive directors in Winterfell and they had met as children. They had drifted apart when they had attended different colleges, but Sansa still regarded her fondly. She was one of the few friends she had left after breaking up with Joffrey.

Jeyne had wanted details about her and Jon’s relationship. Sansa could tell she was slightly miffed that she hadn’t been told about the relationship but Sansa assured her that nobody had known and that Jon liked privacy.

“He’s not comfortable with the paparazzi and large crowds.”

Jeyne leaned forward with a conspiratorial wink, “Well, that didn’t stop him from calling you an ‘amazing girl’ and mocking Joffrey. Seems like he’s not too shy.”

Sansa felt a flush creep up her neck. She had seen the video (and embarrassingly replayed it multiple times) and almost had to remind herself that Jon was just playing a part. “Well he has his moments.”  If Sansa was being completely honest, she wouldn’t mind seeing more of those moments from Jon.

“Is he a good kisser?” Jeyne pressed.

Sansa’s mouth dropped open. “Jeyne! This is not the best place.” she hissed.

“What?” the brunette giggled. “It’s not like people don’t already assume you two are sleeping together. So?” she arched an eyebrow.

“He’s better than most.” Sansa replied hurriedly, wanting to change the topic desperately. Thinking about kissing Jon was terribly distracting and she needed to have her mind on something else. “Now shut up about this before somebody overhears.”

Jeyne stuck out her tongue but dutifully shut up about it. For the rest of the meal, Jeyne indulged Sansa in some gossip she heard about Loras Tyrell, but it barely captured Sansa’s interest. She was thinking about Jon and was already planning to call him once she got home. He had rehearsals for his upcoming tour, but she hoped he could spare a few minutes. They needed a solid cover story and another outing together as a couple would get rid of any rumors that they were just friends. A little flutter of excitement went through her as she thought of seeing him again – though she squashed that feeling. _It’s all an act, it’s all an act._

The two girls finished lunch, but not before Jeyne made Sansa promise to call her with any updates. Sansa agreed, to be honest

Howland peered at her as she slid in the backseat.  “Back to the Stark estate, Sansa?”

Sansa ran her tongue over her teeth; an idea suddenly came to mind. “Actually, Howland. Would you mind stopping by someplace first?”

* * *

 

Rehearsals were always a pain for Jon. They were long and tiresome, consisting mostly of troubleshooting the sound system and stage mechanical issues. But they were necessary especially for their upcoming US tour. A tour like this had been beyond Jon’s wildest dreams when he had been in college. They had been mainly limited to local bars just a few years ago and now he was playing Staples Center. The thought sent a surge of pride through him and he stood back on the stage to survey the area where thousands of fans would soon fill up.

“Jon!” Sam’s head peeked behind the curtains from backstage and he jerked his thumb backwards. “Tormund ordered a pizza if you want some.”

Jon nodded and followed Sam backstage. Rehearsals had been running since 7 AM and they were finally getting a break around 2 for lunch and he realized he was starving. Tormund, the third and final member of their band was already seated, his face nearly in the pizza box. He straightened when Jon and Sam came into his peripheral.

“Sam!” Tormund crowed. He had a wicked grin on his face and Jon got a pit in his stomach somehow already knowing where this was leading. “Would you care to know what I’ve just learned about our good ol’ Jon was doing last night, instead of attending our grand party?” He stepped forward to clap him on the back and Jon nearly choked on his spit.

“What are you going on about, Tor?” Sam’s nose wrinkled in utter confusion. Jon had been dreading his bandmates reaction to Sansa. He knew for a fact that Sam thought Sansa was a flighty socialite. He had met her once when he had visited the Stark mansion and Sansa had barely acknowledged him, running around looking for a scarf of some sort.

“He was with-“ Tormund paused, dramatically. “Sansa Stark!”

Sam gasped. “Asshole.” He hissed menacingly (at least he tried to sound menacing, but it was Sam, so he failed).

Jon put up his hands in front of him in a defensive stance. “Sam, I can explain-“

“Are you dating her?” Sam interrupted. Tormund sat back down, his eyes glittered in anticipation for Jon’s answer.

Jon jammed his hands into his pockets, sighing in exasperation. “Yes, we’re dating.”

“S-Sansa Stark?” Sam spluttered. “Jon, she’s a spoiled heiress, who lives in a completely different world from us. Does she even listen to our music?”

Jon felt a flash of irritation at Sam’s words and his dark eyes hardened. Sansa was spoiled, there was no denying it, but it was far from her defining characteristic. Sam had never seen Sansa’s caring, maternal side or her clever wit that often came out at the most unexpected times. “I didn’t realize I had to date a groupie, to gain your approval, Sam.” He snapped. “Do you want to have lunch with her, so you can quiz her on our albums?”

Sam’s face slackened with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean it like that, Jon. It’s just odd – the two of you. I thought she and you weren’t on the best of terms.”

“Things changed.” Jon shifted, uncomfortably. “The media warps things, she’s different.”

“She’s hot is what she is” Tormund declared. “How did Jon manage to snag such a hot girlfriend?” He leaned back, with a hearty chuckle. “I mean, no offense. Sometimes, Jon, you’ve got the personality of a fucking rock.”

Jon winced, “Tormund, saying no offense doesn’t automatically negate the insult.”

“Ho!” Tormund grinned. “Now, we’re using big words!” He grabbed a slice of pizza and nearly scarfed it down in two bites. Sam looked reluctant to join in, as though the news had robbed him of his appetite.

He nudged Sam, “I’ll fill you in all the details after rehearsal.” Sam nodded, his lips pursed tightly.

Jon settled into a chair and grabbed a slice alongside Tormund who was now onto his second. He rubbed his eyes, desperate for a quick nap before rehearsals resumed.

“Um, Jon?” It was a stagehand. His voice was meek, scared to bother him.

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s Sansa Stark. She’s just come to the stadium, she wanted to see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh!! I'm so sorry for taking so long to update, I've been gone on vacation and this chapter was so hard to get out. I meant to have it be longer but then it would have taken even longer for me to get it out and I felt like it had been way too long since an update. I hope you guys are still with this story :')


	5. One for the Road

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Gendry pulled off his fencing mask. His brown hair was matted down with sweat and he wiped at his forehead as he sat down next to her on the sideline bench.

Arya made a face, wrinkling her nose. “Gross, don’t sit next to me when you’re sweating like a pig.” She laughed when he waved his sweat-soaked towel inches from her face. “Stop!”

He grinned widely, but then turned solemn. “I’m serious, I’ve scored more points off of you, today, than I have in a year. Your focus has been absolute shit.”

“I’m trying,” she grumbled. “I’ve just been distracted. Did you see the news about my sister?”

“Sansa? Isn’t she dating Robb’s friend?” She nodded. “Well, I’m sure she’s had tons of boyfriends in the past, what’s different now?”

Arya let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s just weird this time. Sansa and Jon, were so awkward with each other before. And now they’re appearing on tabloids together, holding hands and shit.”

Gendry gave her an odd look and she cringed knowing it sounded as though she was jealous. She _was_ jealous, just not in the romantic sense. Jon was the one person that didn’t seem to favor Sansa over her outside of their family. So many people instantly fell in love with Sansa’s beauty and charm that they hardly believed that Arya was her sister once they laid eyes on her horse face and blunt personality. Jon and Arya had gotten on so well, but now that he and Sansa were dating, she wondered if they would still be close.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gendry offered. He was always so heartbreakingly sweet and Arya wondered what she’d done to deserve a friend like him.

“Nah,” she shook her head. “It’s dumb. I’m over it.” If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t, but she knew it would only take time for the idea of Jon dating Sansa to become normal. Sansa was happy, and that was what was important. Jon would never treat Sansa like how Joffrey had.

She stood up, stretching out her arms. “I’m bored.” She glanced at Gendry, “Ready for me to kick your ass?”

“As if. Suit up, Lady Stark.”

Arya hissed, irked by the use of his dumb nickname for her. She kicked the back of his shin. “You’ll be sorry, Gendry.”

He only smirked, tossing her, her favorite sabre. “Prove it.”

* * *

 

Jon could hardly believe his eyes as Sansa came around the corner. The night before, he had only mentioned once, that he had rehearsals at Staples Center. Admittedly, he was surprised that she had even remembered. His bandmates were silent as she came closer, and he struggled to find the words to greet her.

“Sans-“

“Jon!”

Before he could get her full name out, she had leapt into his arms with an excited squeal. Her long red curls brushed against his face as her flowery scent enveloped him. He wasn’t sure exactly what Sansa was planning, or what she was even doing here, but he pulled her body closer to his and murmured a quiet ‘hey’ into her hair.

She pulled away to gaze up at him with her wide, blue eyes. A mischievous twinkle alighted her eyes and her lips quirked into a coy smile. “Hey, babe.”

Out of Jon’s periphery, Tormund thinly veiled a chuckle at Sansa’s term of endearment. Jon’s face warmed with embarrassment. Should he have called her by an endearment as well? In his head, he went through all the traditional ones, ‘sweetheart’, ‘love’, ‘darling’. None of them sounded right for Sansa, and he was all too nervous to even give one a try. He made a mental note to ask Sansa which one she preferred.

“What are you doing here?” Jon managed. “I thought you were busy with…other things.” _Stupid_. He had no idea what Sansa actually did in her spare time. He knew from Robb that she had auditions she went to regularly, but other than that he was utterly clueless.

She raised a perfectly shaped brow, as though she couldn’t believe what an idiot he was. Her face quickly smoothed into a bright smile. “You’re going to be leaving almost right after the Winter Gala for the tour, so I wanted to meet everybody before you all set off.”

Jon was speechless and confused. They were only dating for appearances, so why did she bother to come all the way down to meet Tormund and Sam? It wasn’t as though she had to be here in-person for them to believe he had a new girlfriend. He tried to convey his confusion with a pointed look, but she ignored him, already waving at his bandmates.

“Well!” Tormund stepped forward with a grin. “If we’re doing introductions, Tormund’s the name. I’m this bastard’s bassist.”

Sansa shook his hand and although she was a tall girl, Tormund towered over her. “It’s a pleasure, Tormund.” She intoned, warmly.

Tormund was charmed, much to Jon’s surprise. “We all were wondering if Jon here was ever going to get a girl. We didn’t know it would be you though, Miss Stark. To be honest, we thought it was going to be your brother-“

“That’s enough, Tor.” Jon huffed. Sansa only giggled and he shot her a glare. “Anyways, this is Sam.” He went over to clap his hand over his friend’s back. “He’s the drummer for _Night’s Watch_.”

She came forward and beamed, “Hi! Jon always talks about you and Tormund, I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Sam looked apprehensively at Sansa and Jon knew from the tiniest crease in Sansa’s brow, that she noticed his reluctance.  “We’ve actually met before.” He stated curtly.

“Oh!” Sansa blushed, taken aback by his terse response. Jon’s eyes darted nervously between his friend and his ‘girlfriend’. “I’m sorry, I’ve got a terrible memory.” Sansa’s eyes lowered apologetically.

“Sam came by the house just one time. I think you were a bit busy at that time, so it’s understandable.” Jon quickly interjected. “Isn’t that right, Sam?”

His friend nodded; there was guilt in his eyes. Even though Jon knew Sam had some prejudice against Sansa, he was too soft-hearted to be cruel about it. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Sam mumbled.

An awkward pause came over the group, before Sansa broke the silence to invite his two friends to the Stark’s Winter Gala. Jon was relieved that Sansa had taken the initiative to invite his friends, because although Robb would be there, he would most likely be busy with meeting other entertainment executives to have much time to drink a beer with Jon. Tormund automatically replied that he would be there and Sam also accepted the invitation.

The giant red-haired man looked between Jon and Sansa and slyly offered to give them some time alone all while ushering Sam off-stage and shooing various stagehands and crew members away.

When there was nobody within earshot, Jon turned to Sansa, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“What?” Sansa pouted, “I thought, you’d be you happy to see me, _babe_.” Her lips formed a wicked grin.

“Sansa-“

“Okay, okay.” She rolled her eyes. “I really came to meet Tormund and Sam, what kind of girlfriend doesn’t know her boyfriend’s band?”

“You don’t need to meet them.” Jon rubbed at his beard with agitation. He was somewhat unsettled having Sansa here. Just a week ago, the two had been awkward acquaintances and now she was showing up to his band’s rehearsals, throwing herself into his arms and calling him ‘babe’. It was a bizarre, but not an entirely unwelcome change. He willed himself to remember that it was not a permanent change and that just in a few months things would go back to normal.

Sansa’s expression hardened. She was a silent for a moment before retorting, “Are you ashamed of me?”

The question took Jon aback. “What? No!” he spluttered. “I just think that it’s not necessary for you to be here, if we’re not even dating for real-“

“-so that’s what I’m asking!” Sansa’s voice went shrill. “Are you regretting agreeing to my idea? Because it seems as though you don’t want me to be here meeting your friends. And I know how Sam looked at me, like I’m some flighty heiress who doesn’t know anything. So, that’s why I’m asking, if you’re ashamed of me!”

Although she was visibly upset, she kept her voice low so as not to attract attention. Jon had no idea how the conversation had spun from playful teasing to outright anger. Robb had always said he was terrible with girls and apparently, Sansa was no exception.

He put his hands on her shoulders, attempting to placate her. “What Sam thinks isn’t important, I don’t see you like that.” Jon struggled to find the right words. “The last thing I am is ashamed of you.” _How could I ever be?_

Sansa exhaled shortly, she looked unconvinced, but also too exasperated to argue. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. I just- I wouldn’t be surprised if you were. You wouldn’t be the first.” She mumbled.

 Jon’s jaw clenched, he knew she was referring to Joffrey. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait for the Winter Gala. He would make sure to make that bastard green with envy, and regret all the cruel things he’d done to Sansa.

A quiet buzzing sound broke the silence and they both reached down to check their phones. Jon’s lock screen had no notifications, and he glanced over at Sansa and saw she had 1 new message. Before he could help it, he had read the message: _You’re a real bitch, Sansa Stark._

Sansa’s head whipped up to see if Jon had seen anything, and he reflexively turned his head away, coughing nonchalantly into his arm. He turned back to her, trying to keep a neutral expression. She only shoved the phone into the back of her jeans, but her face had gone pale.

He reached out to lightly hold her elbow. “Who was that from?” A part of him deeply suspected it was Joffrey, but there had been no name attached to the message.

She wet her lips nervously. “Just my mom. She wants me to come home.”

 _Liar._ A pang of frustration, went through Jon. She hadn’t felt as though she could trust him with the truth. _Of course, she doesn’t trust you, idiot. You’re her fake boyfriend, she doesn’t owe you anything._ Sansa was chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, and Jon felt helpless. He reached down, stroking her pale cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You don’t look well.” He murmured.

She shook her head, turning her cheek away from his hand. “I’m fine.” She raised her face with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I got to go. My mom’s going to be pissed if I take any longer.”

Jon suppressed a sigh. “I’ll walk you out. Howland parked just outside the main entrance, right?”  Sansa nodded and they headed out together. She had cheerily bid Tormund and Sam goodbye on their way out and Jon could barely believe how quickly she could switch facades, just like that.

The paparazzi were gathered outside the front entrance and Sansa made a face. “Ugh, they must have seen my car and followed it. They memorized all our license plates.” She straightened out her white blouse and pulled a pair of sunglasses from her purse.

“How do I look?” she tilted her head with a playful smile.

Jon’s stomach twisted into knots, “Perfect.” He managed.

She laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” She moved closer to him, hesitantly, before her lips gently met his cheek in a chaste kiss. _Shit._

Sansa quickly withdrew, her cheeks aflame. Jon didn’t know who was more flustered by the chaste kiss – her or him. One thing was for certain, he wanted more and for that, he hated himself.

 “Sorry, I thought we’d give them a show.” She gestured outside, Jon realized he had nearly forgotten about the paparazzi outside.

“Right.” Jon, replied quickly. “The paparazzi.”

“I’ll call you later.” She promised. And then she was gone out the door, a couple of security guards escorted her out, making sure the paparazzi kept their distance. A strange emotion bubbled in his stomach as Jon watched her go. It took him a few seconds for it to dawn upon Jon, that it was disappointment that he felt.

* * *

 

Sansa: I’m sorry about the kiss, was that weird?

Jon: Stop apologizing, we’re supposed to be dating, Sansa.

Sansa: Right, that’s what I was thinking.

Sansa: Anyways, my mom wants you to come over and have dinner on Saturday, are you free?

Jon: Depends

Sansa: On what??

Jon: …Will Robb be back by then?

Sansa: No, you idiot.

Jon: I’ll be there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another short chapter! I promise the next ones will be longer! I'm seriously so thankful for all your guys's comments and kudos <3 I read every one and appreciate all the feedback and love you guys have been sending!!! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and good luck to everybody starting classes soon.


	6. If You Were There, Beware

The week passed by in a blur of holiday decorations and text messages. The Stark matriarch insisted on decorating the dining and living room in full holiday regalia in preparation for Jon coming to dinner. Sansa’s attempts to stop her mother’s decorating frenzy were only rebuffed by cold stares and blinking holiday lights being thrusted into her face.

“Sansa, please untangle these for me.”

“ _Mom._ He doesn’t care if our house is decorated or if the stockings are put up. It’s Jon that’s coming over, not Santa Claus, remember?”

Her mother was unbothered as she went along plucking a gold ornament from the storage boxes and, hooking it onto the newly cut Christmas tree. “Sansa, you’re bringing home a boy and I want him to have a good impression. It doesn’t matter if he’s been here a million times, this will be his first time here as your boyfriend. So how I want things to run, will be how things will run.” She stated firmly. “Besides, I’m still quite upset that you lied about him in the first place.”

“Seriously?” Sansa huffed.  “I never lied about it! You just assumed that I didn’t really have a boyfriend.” A part of her felt bad at seeing how gung-ho her mother was getting into the decorating. She was happy that Sansa had found somebody new, but she didn’t know that it was all part of an even bigger lie.

Her mother’s mouth tightened into a straight, disapproving line. “A lie by omission, is still a lie.” Her cold blue eyes flickered over to the kitchen clock. “Now, if you’re not going to help me decorate, you might as well go get ready for your audition. Come straight back here, after the audition or Jon is going to be left without a date.”

Another thing that had happened over the past few days was that Sansa had secured an audition for a big budget movie. Shae had chalked it up to her recent splash in the news headlines, making her a recognizable face that casting producers saw as desirable to have. Sansa would never have imagined that fake dating Jon would have reaped this benefit, but she wasn’t exactly complaining, either.

In the past, she’d done recurring roles in TV shows, the odd commercial here and there, but she’d never been in a feature film. The thought of starring in a big movie exhilarated Sansa. Best of all, the audition was for the role of Belle in an adaptation of Sansa’s favorite fairy tale, The Beauty and the Beast. It was to be a live-action film, and Shae was confident that this time was Sansa’s lucky break.

Sansa was less confident. This was maybe her thirteenth attempt at auditioning for a movie, and so far all attempts had been hopeless. Producers had always said that she was always lacking something or another and it peeved her to no end. In the few days of preparation she had, she studied up on every media adaptation there was to be found. She was determined not go down without a fight.

Before Shae picked her up for the audition, Sansa made sure to look her absolute best. Her makeup had been applied with the utmost care and she’d chosen to wear a tailored, yellow sundress. She admired her reflection in the mirror, but a part of her was worried if the yellow dress would come off a bit desperate. Her worries were momentarily put to the side when her phone buzzed with an incoming call. She found herself hoping it was Jon.

 They had talked very little since their awkward encounter at Staples Center. Whenever she thought back to how she’d kissed his cheek, her face would burn with acute embarrassment. She had no idea what had possessed her to even do so. Jon had said he hadn’t minded, but a part of her wondered if he thought her mad. Nevertheless, due to both of their busy schedules, they had only exchanged texts since then.

She had let him know about her upcoming audition via text, and he had only sent a thumbs up in response. Sansa had reminded herself that they were only a couple for show, but she couldn’t help but be irritated that he couldn’t have even taken the time to write out ‘congratulations’.

The next day, to her great surprise, he had sent a floral arrangement of tulips and lilacs, addressed to her, in congratulations. Arya had been less than impressed, while her mother had _oohed_ and _ahhed_ over how sweet the gesture had been.  Admittedly, she was stunned that Jon would go that far for show. Sansa took back every bad thought she ever had about Jon. What he failed to do in words, he more than made up for in actions. She turned to grab the phone, an eager smile on her face – until she saw the number.

“ _What?”_

“Really? Jon Snow was the best you could do?” Joffrey’s voice was piercing and filled with poison. “I was expecting some big star, and all you could find was the miserable singer of some second-rate band?”

She was prepared for insults against her, but Joffrey’s affronts against Jon made her blood boil. Jon had been nothing but unfailingly kind towards her, something that Joffrey had failed to do in every manner.

“Jon built himself up to where he is, today.” Sansa spat out. “You’ve leeched off your parents for everything-“

“-oh, and you haven’t?” Joffrey interrupted with a sneer. “Or has the acting thing suddenly worked out?”

Sansa’s grip on her phone tightened. _It’s your fault!_  She wanted to scream. Instead she only spat out, “Don’t call or text me again.” 

“Sansa, Sansa.” He tsked. “All you have to do is ignore the calls. You have yet to do so, so some part of me feels as though you enjoy my calls. I’ll call you as long as I feel like it.” The line went dead and Sansa’s stomach turned uneasily.

The texts and calls from Joffrey had been getting more frequent. Jon had almost found out about them, when she’d received one at Staples Center. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen the message, but he had definitely noticed how shaken up she’d been. If Joffrey sent her another text message, and Jon happened to be there, she knew he would press her for answers.

She had to change her phone number. There was no way in hell that she would ever let Jon or her family know about this. They’d be angry she’d hidden it for so long, and their anger was not something she needed it right now.

* * *

 

The audition was at a surprisingly quiet location in Hollywood. Once inside the building, Sansa found her nerves calming. She had been momentarily shaken by Joffrey’s call, but it was now serving to fuel her determination to get the part. It was hard to admit, but he was right. She was more of an heiress than an actress and that needed to change.

Shae had given her encouraging words in the car, but had firmly reminded her that this was not an opportunity to be wasted. Not that Sansa needed to be reminded.

She approached the front desk where a perky blonde sat, typing rapidly and chewing on a large piece of gum.  “Hi. Sansa Stark, here for the auditions?”

“Sansa Stark?” The blonde’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the clipboard. “Right, you’re a little early. You can go up to the 11th floor and wait in the main lobby until they call your name. There’s some girls waiting there as well, though they should get you in pretty quickly.”

“Thanks.” Sansa moved past the front desk and took the elevator up. She stepped out into the main lobby. True to the secretary’s words, she could already see several girls sitting in the waiting room. What Sansa hadn’t expected, was that she recognized one of those girls.

Margaery Tyrell sat on the right side of the waiting room, further from the rest of the girls. Sansa had only ever seen her in tabloids, but she was impossibly prettier in real life. Her shiny brown hair hung in soft waves around her heart-shaped face and her red lips seemed to be perpetually stuck in a flirtatious smirk. Sansa suddenly felt self-conscious about her own appearance. Margaery looked exactly like the storybook depictions of Belle.

Sansa fought the urge to run, and steeled herself to enter the waiting room. Before choosing a seat, she risked another glance over at Margaery and almost gasped aloud when she saw her looking back. Blue eyes met blue eyes and after a few stunned seconds, Sansa willed herself to look away. _Shit._  Ducking her head down, she tried to be nonchalant but noticed from her periphery that Margaery was waving at her, motioning for her to come over.

Blinking in surprise, Sansa double-checked to make sure Margaery was gesturing at her. Margaery’s smile widened and she nodded as though confirming that she wanted Sansa to approach.. She wondered what the Tyrell girl could possibly want. Did she know about the calls and texts between her and Joffrey? Sansa’s palms were went clammy but she managed a brave smile as she reluctantly made her way towards Margaery.

“Hi,” Sansa greeted, uncertainly.

“Hello!” Even her voice was perfect; bright and melodic. “Sansa Stark, right? Margaery Tyrell.” She extended a hand and Sansa shook it, still unsure of what to make of the girl. She was acting like a perfect angel, as though she was unaware that she had dated Joffrey. She noticed that Sansa was still standing about awkwardly and patted the seat next to her, “Why don’t you sit here?”

Sansa nodded, feeling quite light-headed as she took the seat.

“It’s such a coincidence – bumping into you here. I knew you were an actress, but I never imagined that we would ever see each other at an audition.” She grinned, “Belle would be the dream role for any actress, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Sansa was still confused at how she was having a perfectly normal conversation with Margaery Tyrell, Joffrey’s current girlfriend. Jeyne would die once she told her this story. “I-I’m quite confused, sorry.”

Margaery’s pink lips parted in concern. “Oh! About what?”

“Well,” She chewed on her bottom lip and the truth tumbled out. “For starters, you’re dating Joffrey.” Her voice lowered to avoid attention, “Joffrey hates me. So it doesn’t make sense why you’re being so nice to me.”

The brunette’s brows knitted in confusion. “Why would I be rude to you? You haven’t done anything to me.” She said it so matter-of-factly that Sansa almost believed her. But if she was dating Joffrey, then she couldn’t be trusted.

Sansa frowned. “I think you know why I have reason to be wary of you.” She cleared her throat, “I don’t know you, but you don’t seem to be the naïve type.”

Margaery’s bright smile faltered and her lips tightened into a somber line. “You’re right.” She admitted, and after a pause, her voice dropped to a whisper. “I know that Joffrey has been calling and texting you.”

Her heart thumped wildly. _Here it was. Margaery Tyrell was bound to be angry. She had no doubt mistaken the texts and calls for something of an illicit nature. She’d rage at Sansa in public and then she’d be on the front page of another trashy tabloid. The chances of her scoring this audition would plummet, and she’d be forced to face another rejection-_

“I’m so sorry that you still have to deal with Joffrey’s horribleness.”

“It’s not what you think!” Sansa blurted out. She stopped, suddenly registering Margaery’s words. “Wait, _what_?”

The Tyrell girl reached for her hand, and Sansa glanced around anxiously to see if anybody had taken notice of the two of them. It seemed as though all the girls were too preoccupied preparing for the audition to care what was going on. “I snooped through his texts, one night.” She admitted, her hazel eyes wide and fraught with distress.

 “If you know about the texts, why are you…“Sansa trailed off, unsure of how to phrase the question.

Margaery smiled, two pronounced dimples forming. “Why am I still with him?” She laughed, mirthlessly. “Well, he certainly doesn’t have the personality, but he does have the name and the connections.” The brunette leaned in close, “You understand, don’t you? I believe your situation with Jon Snow is very similar to my own.”

Sansa’s face burned, and her spine straightened as she yanked her hand out of Margaery’s hold. “Don’t compare Jon to Joffrey. Ever.” The words came out more acerbic than she intended and Margaery had the decency to look chastened.

“I’m sorry, I assumed-“

“You assumed incorrectly.” Sansa retorted, coldly.

“I apologize.” Margaery said after a long silence. “I want for us to be friends.”

Sansa resisted the urge to laugh out loud. _Was Margaery Tyrell out of her mind?_ As long as she was dating Joffrey, she was connected to him and Sansa wanted nothing to do with the blonde Lannister. There were a million girls out there that Margaery could befriend, why was so she intent on her?

“Look,” She cleared her throat. “No offense, but I just don’t want to be around anyone or anything that has to do with Joffrey.” Sansa meant to leave it at that, but she couldn’t help herself and added, “But just between us, the sooner you get away from Joffrey, the better. You may think you can handle him or whatever, but there are a ton of single, rich guys that could give you the connections that Joffrey has. “

Margaery opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment, a woman exited from the audition room with a clipboard in hand. Her gray-flecked eyes scanned the room before landing on Sansa. “Miss Stark, if you would please follow me?”

Her heartrate quickened, the nerves coming back in full force. She internally cursed Margaery Tyrell for taking away time that she meant to use to prepare for the audition _._ Instead of going over techniques, she’d given boy advice to a girl she had just met. _Brilliant, Sansa, just, brilliant._

She exhaled shortly, standing up to follow the casting director. To her side, she heard Margaery murmur a quiet ‘ _good luck’._

Sansa followed the woman into a stark white room. There were three people already there, seated behind a long table. A camera was set-up behind them, ready to film her audition. She sucked in a deep breath before introducing herself. In turn, they also introduced themselves, briefly. There was the director, the camera operator, and a corporate head.

The director handed her the script with a nod of his head. “I’ll read the lines for the Beast, and you will read the lines for Belle, obviously. You can take a few minutes to read over it, before we film it.”

Sansa took the script with a grateful smile. It was rare that a few minutes was offered for preparation. The script detailed a scene she recognized immediately. It was the scene where the Beast finds Belle snooping around the castle and he lashes out at here.

Before she could help it, her mind flashed to Joffrey. When they’d still been dating she likened him to the Beast. She thought that his cruel exterior had merely been a front and that she would be able to ‘tame’ him, to unleash his gentle side. She had been dead wrong.

“Miss Stark, are you ready?”

Sansa blinked, before hastily nodding.

“Yes. I am.”

* * *

 

Jon got to the Stark estate a few minutes early, and though he’d been there a thousand times before, his stomach turned uneasily with anxiety. If Catelyn Stark ever found out about the ruse between him and Sansa he would be skinned alive. She was an intimidating woman, and the thought of having to lie to her over dinner scared the hell out of him.

Sansa was the one to greet him at the door. She looked lovely in a pale yellow sundress and she smiled sweetly once she saw him. “Hey!” He leaned in for a brief hug, before stepping inside the house. The grandeur of the mansion never ceased to awe Jon. Catelyn’s Stark eye for detail and need for cleanliness were apparent all throughout the house.

He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. “Here,” he proffered, awkwardly. “I thought your mom would like it if I brought something.”

“Smart.” She remarked, taking the flowers from him. “Though, I think she was already charmed by the first bouquet. Thanks for those, again. They were really beautiful.”

Jon felt his face warm at her compliments. _Jesus Christ_ , he was putty in her hands. “It was no big deal.” He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the front door. “How did the audition go?”

Sansa shook her head, “Can we talk about something else?”

He grimaced. “That bad?”

“No, I just- if I think about it, my nerves will spiral out of control. I’ll start overanalyzing every inflection I made, or every hand gesture I did.” She wrung her hands together. “Plus, I saw Margaery Tyrell there.”

Jon stopped. “ _What?_ Did she say something to you?”

“Jon!” Catelyn Stark emerged from the kitchen. Her cheeks were flushed red, probably from standing over the stove and she wore a kitchen apron over a stylish dress.

Sansa leaned over close so that they were shoulder to shoulder. “Actually, she had a lot to say.” She murmured under her breath. “I’ll fill you in later.” She shifted her weight, and lifted the bouquet to show her mother, “Look what Jon brought for you, Mom.”

Catelyn beamed and leaned down to smell the arrangement. “Jon, that was awfully thoughtful of you.” She kissed his cheek in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it out to dinner, you’ll have to come back once Robb and Ned fly back from New York.”

“Of course.” Jon nodded warmly, but the moment Catelyn’s eyes left Jon, he shot Sansa a glare. Sansa matched his glare and elbowed his side.

“Sansa, put these in a vase will you?”

Sansa’s head snapped up, and she smiled beatifically at her mother. Jon’s eyebrows rose, trying to hold back a laugh at how quickly her expression had shifted from annoyed girlfriend to perfect daughter.

“Go ahead, and make yourself comfortable, dear. I’m sure Arya and Rickon will be down in no time. Bran had a doctor’s appointment, but he’ll also be here soon.” She smoothed her apron, “I have to get back to my stew.” She followed Sansa into the kitchen and Jon settled onto one of the leather couches.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Catelyn’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Jon, would you be a dear and get the door? It’s probably Meera and Bran. That girl is always forgetting her keys.”

“Got it.” Jon called back. He stood up and strode over to the front entrance. With one hand, he swung the door open, and came face to face with – Robb.

Robb didn’t look the least bit surprised to see Jon standing there in the front entrance of his own house.  Instead, he tilted his head to the side and stepped inside, lugging a suitcase behind him. Jon stepped aside, speechless at the sight of his friend.

“Hope I’m not late,” Robb’s blue eyes narrowed coldly. “I didn’t want to miss out on meeting my dear sister’s boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *plays Slim Shady's 'Guess Who's Back' in the background*  
> Hope you guys liked this chapter, more insight into Sansa's background this chapter and an awkward family dinner coming up next chapter! Woot! Thanks again for all the love and support. :)


	7. Snap Out of It

 There had never been a more awkward dinner at the Stark estate, Sansa was sure, and that was saying something. In fact, this dinner was rivaling the infamous Christmas of 2009 when Aunt Lyssa and Uncle Jon had come over bringing a gift for each Stark child, a bottle of wine, and of course, their petulant cousin Robin.

Robin was a sniveling child whose every demands were met by his coddling mother. Needless to say, he almost always burst into tears and whines whenever he came over to the Stark estate. The Stark children would find little ways to needle their cousin that would avoid detection by their hawk-eyed mother and aunt.

That fateful Christmas, Arya had gone a little overboard with her needling, which resulted in Robin throwing the loudest tantrum yet, where he had smashed one of their mother’s precious China plates and pushed Arya to the ground with a wail. (Robin’s push had the strength of a flea and she only fell to the ground for theatrics.)

Their father, who had been silent the entire dinner, suddenly spoke in a booming voice, reprimanding Robin harshly. Aunt Lyssa had taken great offense to that, and refused to come back for any of the following Christmases, not that anybody minded greatly.  Arya took her punishment proudly, declaring herself a martyr figure for the other Stark siblings.

This dinner was Robin-less, but just as tension-filled, for Jon and Sansa at least. Robb’s sudden appearance had mixed reactions. Bran and Rickon were delighted, completely oblivious of her and Jon’s dismay. Arya only snickered, laughing behind her mouth as their mother hugged Robb warmly.

Their mother all herded them into the dining room where there mother had set out her finest dining set, and a scarlet red tablecloth heaped with platters of hot food. Sansa took her seat first, and Jon followed suit, taking the seat to her right. Catelyn sat at the head, while Robb sat directly across from Jon (with a hard glare).  Arya, Rickon, and Bran filled in the remaining seats, already digging into the food laid out before them.

Sansa cleared her throat, “How was your flight, Robb?” She tried to muster a convincing smile but her stomach turned uneasily. Jon must have noticed her nervousness, because she felt his hand go to her forearm, underneath the table, and he squeezed it gently.

“Fine.  Could have been worse, I suppose.” He paused, “No unexpected surprises happened, that’s always nice.” His voice was cheery but the pointed meaning behind his words was clear.

Robb stabbed his steak with such force that Arya, who sat by his right side, flinched and glared at him for making her do so. Sansa had no doubt that Robb was currently imagining that the steak was Jon’s face.

The tension was almost suffocating and only Catelyn Stark was brave enough to cut through it. “Robb, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home early?” she chastised him, but her voice had no real bite to it. Their mother never liked it when a child was away from home for too long.

“Well,” Robb clapped his hand together, chewing for a moment and then swallowing. “I’d been busy with work so I didn’t hear the news about Sansa and Jon,” his nose wrinkled with distaste and Sansa saw Jon’s jaw clench.

A terrible feeling curled in Sansa’s stomach. She hoped that Robb wasn’t genuinely angry at Jon. They were the best of friends and if their friendship was ruined because of her lie, she’d never forgive herself.

“Anyways,” Robb continued. “Arya texted me about the dinner and that’s when I found out about the _great_ news. So, I took an earlier flight out, dad was okay with it.”

Sansa’s gazed sharply at Arya, who mouthed back a silent ‘ _what?_ ’ defensively. Beside her, Jon shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Sansa put a hand on his knee to try to calm him.

“We wanted to tell you, Robb.” Sansa started with a sigh. “But then the paparazzi caught us having dinner, and then you flew out of town and it was all a mess. I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Awfully convenient, you decide to break the news right when I head out of town.” Robb sniffed, turning up his nose, dramatically.

Their mother tsked gently, “Now, Robb. Don’t be too hard on the two. This is a family dinner, we’re meant to have, don’t make Jon feel uncomfortable.”

Jon gave the Stark matriarch a grateful smile.

“Robb, I’m sorry we kept you out of the loop. But, Jon and I didn’t tell _anybody_ , not Arya, not Mom, not Jeyne or Sam and it was my idea to keep it quiet.” Sansa pleaded. “If you want to be mad at somebody, be mad at me, Jon wanted to tell you right from the start.”

Surprise flickered into Robb’s eyes and he was quiet for a moment before saying, “You really like her, mate?”

Sansa’s heart stuttered, and she licked her lips, waiting for Jon to respond. _Let it be convincing, please._

Jon looked as though he was in a daze, blinking twice and then nodding slowly. “Y-yeah. I haven’t felt this way about anybody before.” He added softly, “Not even Ygritte.”

A hot flush spreads its way from Sansa’s chest up to her neck and face. She reaches for his hand and squeezes it warmly, but she buries the urge to kiss him. He plays his part so well, that it’s nearly fooling Sansa, herself.

"How long has this been happening?" Robb demanded. Here it was, the interrogation Sansa had been expecting.

Sansa shot Jon a quick glance,  _I'll take this one._ "About a month. We've been talking for a bit longer, he helped me with the whole thing with Joffrey."

Arya arched a brow, "Define 'helped'."

Jon reddened. "Nothing happened! We just talked." He held up his hands defensively.

"I just don't get it." Robb shook his head, "You guys literally never talked to each other. Sansa, you even said you thought Jon was a bore."

Arya bobbed her head, eagerly. "Exactly what I said!"

Jon only looked over at Sansa with an amused smirk, "Boring, huh?"

It was Sansa's turn to redden. "Why does everybody keep bringing up the past! Yes, I thought he was boring, then. But, now I very obviously, like him, or else I wouldn't be here, enduring all of this from you guys. Jon please, help me out here." Jon only leaned over to press a sweet kiss on her cheek, his beard scratching at her skin, though she found she liked the sensation.

The moment was interrupted by a labored groan from Arya, “Please no PDA. He’s practically been our other brother, this is so weird.”

“No PDA!” Rickon parroted loudly, earning a hard glare form Catelyn Stark and a snicker from an amused Bran.

Robb looks satisfied with the response and he nods. “Nothing I can do about it then. You do anything to hurt her, and you already know I’ll kill you. Arya too.”

Arya cackles. “And if you die before I get a chance to get a punch in, I’ll resurrect you and make sure that I get a couple punches in.”

Mortified, Sansa rubbed her hands over her face. “Guys, _please_.”

Jon looks terrified by her side, and if he hasn’t already regretted agreeing to be her fake boyfriend by now, she’s sure he definitely is now.

Robb looks satisfied with the response and he nods. “Nothing I can do about it then. You do anything to hurt her, and you already know I’ll kill you. Arya too.”

Arya cackles. “And if you die before I get a chance to get a punch in, I’ll resurrect you and make sure that I get a couple punches in.”

Mortified, Sansa rubbed her hands over her face. “Guys, _please_.”

Jon looks terrified by her side, and if he hasn’t already regretted agreeing to be her fake boyfriend by now, she’s sure he definitely is now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN DON'T HATE ME FOR TAKING FOREVER TO UPDATE THIS LOL.
> 
> So, I've had this chapter just like, SITTING, on my laptop for the longest time. I was kind of stuck in a rut with this story and I wasn't sure if people even wanted to me to continue this, but I decided, what the hell, to just upload this short part. If you guys are still into the story though I'll definitely try to continue it.
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed it <3


	8. Favourite Worst Nightmare

_“The end is near!”_

Sansa arched a brow at her little sister’s outburst, and then promptly continued to finish her breakfast. “Must you always be so dramatic?”

Arya looked up from her phone to mockingly clutch at her heart. “You wound me. Have you seen the latest dress mother has sent me for the gala? It’s as though she _wants_ me to die of embarrassment.”

“There she goes again.” Robb strolled into the kitchen in nothing but a baggy pair of sweats. He went straight to the refrigerator. “Do we still have bacon or did Bran hide it, like he always does?”

“Dunno,” Arya shrugged, she rolled her eyes at her brother’s state of undress. “You do know that putting on a shirt won’t make the abs you worked so hard to make appear, suddenly disappear. They’ll still be there, Robb.” She made a sympathetic face, “I know, it’s hard to believe.”

Sansa stifled a laugh as Robb gave Arya the finger. “Oh hush, you. Any ways, I did see the dress mother sent. I was there when she picked it out.” She’d known from the moment that her mother pulled the dress from the rack Arya would hate it. It had been a dusty pink gown with ruffles up and down the sleeve. Sansa had been doing the math in her head while her mother gushed about the fabric. It was basic math: pink plus ruffled sleeves equaled one livid Arya.

“And you did nothing?” Arya shook her head, “Unbelievable. Who can you trust nowadays?”

“I picked out a second dress for you.” Sansa protested. “Mom didn’t like it as much, but she said if you liked that one better, she’d be fine with it.”

“So where is this mystery dress?” Arya prodded.

“They didn’t have your size in store, so they’re shipping it to the house, later. Try it on, and let me know what you think.”

Robb snorted, coming over to plop down on one of the kitchen chairs with a bowl of cheerios, no bacon in sight. Bran had gotten much better at hiding the bacon. “Good luck with that. I’ve never seen a dress that Arya didn’t tear up, on sight.”

Nearby, Sansa’s phone came to life with a short buzz. She picked up the phone and what she saw on the screen made her gasp, “ _Oh. My. God.”_

“Jesus Christ, what happened?” Arya demanded.

Sansa was speechless for a moment, looking down at her phone, and blinking twice to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. “I-“Robb looked concerned now. “No it’s nothing bad.” She quickly reassured. “Actually the opposite. Shae just texted me. The casting director wants me to come back for a callback.” Sansa’s hands went to her temples, in disbelief.

Arya let out a loud whoop. “Yes! Hellll yes!!” Robb and Arya squished her in a near-suffocating hug. Sansa laughed into her siblings embrace, the happiness was too overwhelming. She had never gotten a callback before for a film. Exhilaration coursed through her veins and her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so wide.

She found herself excited to tell Jon the news as well.

* * *

Jon had been insanely busy the last couple of days. His tour was coming up, and Sansa knew how stressed out he had been out about all the preparation. She’d been reluctant to ask him to dinner, knowing this, but figured it didn’t hurt to ask. He had surprisingly agreed. He came in nearly half an hour late looking adorably apologetic and disheveled, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting down hurriedly.

“You didn’t have to meet with me tonight, Jon.” Sansa said, half-amused, and half-concerned. She had only suggested it because, she’d wanted to treat him, after what he had been enduring at the hands of Robb. Sansa had known it would be bad, and Robb lived up to expectations. Her brother had both Sansa and Jon on Find my Friends and whenever he saw that Sansa and Jon were together, he would send the both of them warning texts.

The one time she had gone over to Jon’s apartment to wait for him to change his clothes before they went out for food, Robb had foregone the texts and went straight to Facetiming Jon. “I see you Snow!! Why is she at your apartment?” It only made matters worse that Jon answered the call shirtless, as he had been in the middle of changing. Sansa burst in the room, much to Jon’s embarrassment, and demanded Robb stop harassing her boyfriend.

Jon shook his head, “No, no it’s fine. I was hungry anyways and I’m sick of ordering pizza.” He pushed up his wire glasses, and began to study the menu. He rarely wore glasses, but Sansa thought he looked quite cute with them on. It was a nice shift from the dark-grunge vibe he always had going on. She found that the more time she spent with him, the more she couldn’t believe she’d thought Jon Snow was ever boring. He was genuinely sweet and though his sense of humor was awkward at times, he always looked out for her, anytime they went out, and that was more than she could say of any of her past boyfriends.

“What are you getting?” He asked absentmindedly.

“A salad.”

Jon choked on his water. “We’re at a 5 star restaurant and you want to order lettuce?”

“It’s _marinated_ lettuce.” She shot back. “Give ranch dressing the credit it deserves. Besides, I kind of ate an appetizer waiting for you, so now I’m not too hungry.”

“Shit,” Jon winced. “Sorry, about that. Sam wanted to do a couple dozen more run-throughs of the finale.”

She smiled, “Don’t apologize. The tour is a really huge for you guys, you should be giving it your all. Besides…guess what?” she sang out.

“Hm?” Jon looked up, interestedly.

Sansa grabbed her purse and pulled out a copy of the album she had bought just a week ago. “I listened to the album, finally!” Sansa cheered, while Jon blinked in surprise. “I know, I’m terrible, I shouldn’t even be proud of this. It took me so long, but I can finally say I am a proud owner of _The Night’s Watch_ , ‘AM’ album!”

Jon’s face split into a wide grin, “You know I was teasing you, right? About being a terrible girlfriend? You didn’t have to go out and buy it, Sans.”

“That’s not the point, Jon.” Sansa explained, impatiently. “I’ve known you for what, _years_ now. I didn’t buy the album so that by chance if some pap quizzes me about your album, I’ll be prepared. I did it so I could know more about you.” For some inexplicable reason she felt her cheeks flush, “It’s a great album.” She added hastily.

“It wasn’t boring?” Jon teased. “Like how you called me boring?”

Sansa glared, “You said you wouldn’t hold that against me.”

“Point taken.” Jon nodded, put there was still a smile tugging at his lips. “Which song did you like best?”

“Do I Wanna Know.” Sansa said, after a pause.

“Why’s that?”

Sansa’s flush worsened. The reason was very simply, was that Jon’s voice was particularly sexy in that song. It had only been a faint thought in her mind when she had first listened to the song, but when she looked up the live version on YouTube, it was as though somebody had set her on fire. She’d splayed her hands over her face, and berated herself for the wildly inappropriate thoughts that were making their way into her head.

She’d never thought of Jon this way. She’d never _wanted_ to think of Jon this way. She was used to the Jon that was currently sitting in front of her, the Jon with a dopey grin and a ratty grey sweater. Not, the Jon that she’d seen in the video who moved with unparalleled confidence and had a husky, gravelly voice that did things to her- _no, no no. Get a grip, Sansa!!_

“It’s just a good song.” She retorted, way more defensively, than she meant. Jon arched a brow, but didn’t bother her further about it, thank god. “But, how are things with the concert going?” She was eager for the subject to change.

Jon shrugged, “Tiring for sure. It’s all exciting, though. But, right now just trying to make sure everything will be ready for the first night is driving me nuts.” He crossed his arms, and nodded for a waiter to come over. “I don’t want to bore you with all the details.”

That stung at Sansa at bit. She _did_ want to hear all the details. Most of the time, it was just her talking, and sure, that was because Jon was always very reticent to speak, but she had hoped that they had reached a point, where he would feel more comfortable divulging more about his life.

The waiter came over with a wine bottle in hand and began pouring two glasses. He asked Jon first, “What can I get started for you, sir?”

“Just the steak for me. Medium rare.” Jon, replied, handing back his menu. He nodded at Sansa with a smirk, “And the missus will have lettuce.”

The waiter was unsurprisingly confused and Sansa shot Jon a scowl. She smiled up at the waiter, “Just the salad for me.” The waiter nodded and left promptly.

“Nice,” Sansa drawled, once the waiter was out of earshot.

Jon shrugged, “Saw the opportunity and took it. Robb said you had some news?”

The grin spread across her face unconsciously. “Actually, yes. I got a callback for the audition.”

“Christ, Sansa.” Jon was stunned. “That’s great!” Sansa beamed. “That’s really, really great. When did you find out?”

“Just this morning. That’s why I wanted to have dinner, so I could tell you about it.”

Something like confusion, flickered across Jon’s features. Sansa had been surprised to at herself. She’d been dying to tell him, and it took every fiber in her being not to accidentally text him the good news.

The news seemed to put Jon in high spirits for the rest of the night, as they continued their dinner. And as much as Sansa tried to enjoy the dinner, she couldn’t help but be distracted the entire time. Every time Jon’s hand would accidentally brush against hers, she would feel embarrassed and get lost in thought for a couple of moments. Or when Jon told her a story from the rehearsal earlier today, she found herself fixating on his lips for a second too long and then, as punishment, she forced herself to stare at her salad, to avoid getting distracted. Needless, to say dinner seemed to drag on for ages.

At the end of the dinner, Jon, as he always did, helped her with her jacket. “Are you feeling sick?” His brow creased with worry. “You seemed a bit out of it.”

Sansa shook her head, “No, just tired.” He took her hand, pulling her towards the exit.

 He was a natural now, at their little game. Things like holding her hand or giving her quick kisses on the cheek were like second nature to him. But for her, she couldn’t find that detachment anymore, anytime they touched, she felt like she was being set on fire, so _aware_ of his presence. It was almost as if-

_Shit._

God help her, she was _not_ catching feelings for Jon Snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh gosh thanks so much for the response to the last chapter and very belated update. so much love!!!!!! to thank y'all, here is a quick chapter. you bet your butt that the next chapter is all about the gala :) (seriously thank you guys so much)


	9. Put your dukes up, Jon.

Sansa stepped out of her room, nearly colliding with a tearful Rickon, who went past her, barreling down the staircase. Her mother was only steps behind, red-faced and panting, holding a balled-up tuxedo. “Rickon Stark, I’ll skin you alive, if you don’t come back her this instant!” Catelyn Stark barked. “You’re much too old to be playing games like this.”

Rickon had always been a wild one, never doing as told and he had driven their mother suitably insane with his shenanigans.

“You want me to get him?” Sansa offered. She’d just finished with her makeup and was about to grab her gown from downstairs.

Her mother shook her head. “I just need a moment to catch my breath. Who would have thought of all the complicated logistics of the Gala, putting my son in a suit would have been the hardest part?” She took notice of Sansa’s makeup, smiling softly. “You look lovely, dear.” Sansa beamed, always pleased to hear her mother’s praise.

“Is Jon going to be joining us before we head over to the venue?” Catelyn asked.

“No,” Sansa wished he was. She’d wanted a moment to be with him before they were bombarded by strangers but he was going to be stuck in rehearsals and would be coming an hour late. The first night of his tour was in two days, and Jon was running himself ragged. “He’s got rehearsals tonight, but he’ll be there.”

Catelyn Stark tightened into a disapproving line. “That boy’s tiring himself out. You’re lucky he likes you so much, sweetie.”

Sansa flushed. Ever since she’d come to the realization that she liked being Jon’s fake girlfriend a little bit too much she began over-analyzing _everything_. Every text she received from Jon took a good 10 minutes to respond to (5 minutes of dissecting his words, and then 5 minutes to craft a reply). And every touch or little kiss (no matter how chaste) sent her brain into overdrive. A part of her tried to rationalize her budding feelings as a manifestation of loneliness. She never had a proper boyfriend, and Jon was the perfect gentleman so _of course_ , she was wooed by his manners and kind smile. Developing a mini-crush on him was to be expected, but an actual relationship happening?

 It couldn’t, shouldn’t, _wouldn’t ever_ happen.

The devil on her shoulder always taunted her when she came to that conclusion. _Why couldn’t it happen, Sansa?_ Her family had already embraced the idea of her dating Jon. He was already well-loved by all her siblings and parents. It didn’t hurt that he was devastatingly handsome, and best of all, had a kind smile that always made her feel warm and safe. _So why, not?_

And the only argument she could think of, was that, Jon could never have feelings like that for. She had never been kind to him, before their ‘relationship’ started. Arya and Robb always teased how cold Sansa had been to Jon one too many times. For fuck’s sake, just last Christmas she’d gotten everybody a gift, _but_ him. He was probably regretting every agreeing to her favor, when she had barely ever acknowledged his presence. It was selfish of her to have these feelings.

“-sa? Sansa?” Catelyn repeated, shaking Sansa out of her thoughts.

“Sorry.” Sansa muttered. “What was that again?” This was another thing that happened frequently, since her realization. She found herself continually distracted by thoughts of Jon, and her mother, hadn’t been the only one who had noticed something off.

Her mother studied her curiously, “Go check in on Arya. Make sure she’s not slipping on jeans underneath her gown like last year.”

Sansa bobbed her head, dutifully and went down the hallway, knocking precariously on Arya’s door. Arya was always irritable before events like these.

“If that’s you, mum, don’t bother! I’m not wearing jeans, I’m wearing the dress Sans got me, are you happy?” Sansa stifled a snort at the fire in Arya’s voice.

“It’s me, Arya. I just wanted to see what the dress looked like on you.”

There was a slight bit of shuffling behind the door. “Oh-well. Come in, then!”

She twisted the doorknob to reveal a huffy Arya. Sansa couldn’t help but gasp, seeing her sister all dressed up. “Arya!

She looked lovely. Arya’s dress was a simple, shimmery silver gown with the fabric twisted ever so slightly at the hip, showing off Arya’s athletic figure. Sansa couldn’t help but feel smug at how good her sister looked in the dress she’d chosen. Her little sister even had her makeup done, highlighting her strong brows and high cheekbones.

“Stop staring at me.” Arya crossed her arms, irritably. “I know it looks a bit odd on me.”

“Odd?” Sansa repeated, bewildered. “Arya, are you blind? Gendry’s not going to be able to form a word the moment he sees you. You look _stunning_. I knew I could find you a dress you liked!” Sansa laughed, giddily.

Arya reddened. “Oh shut it. Gendry’s not going to give two shits. And don’t get too smug about the dress, I’m only wearing it because I’d rather not show up as the Pink Ruffled Monstrosity.”

Sansa smirked, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Arya. I have to take a picture.” She pulled out her phone, from her robe, “Jon said he didn’t think you’d wear it, but of course, he was wrong.”

Arya made a face at the camera, and then she went quiet. “I’m really glad the two of you are together.”

“Hm?” Sansa blinked twice. This was new. Arya was anything but pleased when she first found out. “What do you mean by that?”

Arya dug her toes into the carpet. “Dunno, you laugh a lot more. And I’m guessing, that’s because you’re happier with Jon.” She looked up, “I know I was rude about the whole thing at first, but I’m not against it. All it matters is if you’re happy.”

Sansa was speechless, that was the most sentiment Arya had ever expressed to her in recent memory. It overwhelmed her with a mixture of guilt and resignation. “Arya. I have to tell you something.” She swallowed hard, but Sansa already had her mind made up.

And what’s that?” Arya frowned.

“Jon and I aren’t together.” Sansa rushed out, “Well, we are technically, but it’s kind of all pretend.”

There were three beats of silence. And then- “ _Oh my fucking god_.” Arya jumped up, jabbing an accusatory finger at Sansa, “Now you choose to spill? After I said that corny mess? I can’t believe you, Sansa Stark. I can’t believe the both of you. Whose idea was it?” Sansa could tell Arya was conflicted between outright anger and genuine curiosity.

“Mine.” Sansa squeaked out.

“Of course it was.” Arya fumed. “Why would you do that?”

Sansa bit her lip, “Remember when the press were harassing me about Joffrey and Shae got on my shit about it?” Arya nodded, tightly. “Well, I told Joffrey to screw off, and I told him I had a boyfriend as well.” Sansa trailed off, knowing Arya would fill in the blanks.

“So, you got dumbass Jon Snow to play pretend with you.” Arya surmised. Sansa shrugged. “Well, when were you going to call it quits, then?”

“After the gala. I was just planning on going on a few public dates and then just quietly breaking up. But then-“Sansa exhaled deeply. She didn’t know if she had it in her to say the damning words.

“Then what?” Arya demanded.

“Then, I sort of-maybe-caughtfeelingsforhim.” Sansa confessed, rubbing her hands over her face. God, it felt worse to say it out loud. Saying it loud made it feel real. Especially when her sister looked like she was going to keel over, dying of laughter. “Stop laughing!” Sansa growled. “This isn’t funny, Arya.”

Arya didn’t even try to stifle her laughter, rubbing away at the small tears that formed at the corner of her eyes.  “Oh no, you don’t get to take this away from me, Sansa. This shit is _hilarious_. It’s so hilarious it’s unreal. Like, who comes up with this? This is like out of one of those cheesy rom coms I always catch you watching.”

“Shut up,” Sansa mumbled. “What do I do, Arya?” she asked, glumly.

“No idea,” Arya chortled. “But, I do know, I’m sure as hell going to have fun watching this unfold.”

* * *

Catelyn Stark was a force to be reckoned with. The venue for this year’s Winter Gala was absolutely stunning. Previously, an emptied out warehouse, the Stark matriarch had re-purposed the empty space into something out of a _Town & Country _magazine. White drapes hung from every inch of the wall back-lit by garlands of string lights, and at the front of the venue, a jazz band took over the stage while a svelte singer crooned into the microphone. The staircase that led to the second floor was an ugly metallic sheen, but none of that was apparent thanks to her mother’s genius design. She had placed fake snow to cover the metal, and whimsical garlands laced around the railing, completing the winter wonderland atmosphere.

It was only an hour in to the party, and already the first floor was crowded with couples dancing merrily together and industry executives mingling with each other. That was to be expected, Catelyn Stark had built the Winter Gala into prominence, and it was a highly anticipated event throughout Hollywood.

Sansa leaned against the balcony railing of the second floor, peering down on the first floor, watching all the couples dancing together. Taking a sip of what felt like her 6th (7th?) flute of champagne, she felt a pang of selfish longing for Jon. She fantasized having him hold him her against his chest while he confessed his true feelings in her ear.

She snorted aloud at her own ridiculousness. _Like that would ever happen._

“What’s so funny?”

Robb nudged at her elbow, sidling up with his own glass of alcohol. Whiskey, on the rocks, his favorite. “I caught sight of Joffrey.” She lied, smoothly. Though that wasn’t an exact fib, she had seen him just moments earlier. “I can’t believe I was ever into him.”

Robb snorted as well. “We all told you so. His girlfriend though – _smoking hot_. How does somebody like that attract girls like you and her?”

“Margaery Tyrell? She is pretty hot.” Sansa shrugged. She’d spied the Tyrell heiress earlier, with Joffrey. Her gown had a neckline that nearly went down to her navel, impressing Sansa. Any girl that could wear a gown with that neckline and whirl around the dance floor without a care was a girl worth applauding.

“Good, I was worried, that was just me being drunk. Maybe I’ll try to steal her away from Joffrey.” Robb snickered, before chugging the rest of his drunk. Sansa shook her head. The alcohol was already getting to him.

“I don’t think you’ll have a hard time, stealing anybody away.” Even Sansa would admit that Robb looked quite handsome tonight in his fitted tux and perfectly styled curls. Robb pressed his empty glass into Sansa’s hand.

“Well, wish me luck, sister dearest. And tell Jon, when he gets here, to find me. No sneaking off,” Robb wagged a finger at her, before sauntering off. Sansa couldn’t tell if he was serious or joking, but decided to let him be. Once Robb was done meeting with all the executives, father wanted him to meet, he had a tendency to just do whatever he pleased.

Sansa waved down a waiter to pass off Robb’s glass and settled against the balcony, again, miserably.   _What a sad sight she must make._ All her siblings were off doing their own thing, and not even Jeyne was here to pull her out of her boredom, having taken sick last minute. Taking out her phone, she bit her lip, hoping to see a message from Jon, but there was nothing – _zilch_.

It was then that she caught sight of Joffrey, blonde hair slicked back and a smug smirk pasted on his face, making his way towards her.

“Sansa, sweetheart!” He called out.

Sansa felt like a deer caught in the headlights, frozen by his voice. She wanted to dart away, but her body wouldn’t move and instead she found herself stiffly embraced by the Baratheon heir.

“How are you?” She asked, hollowly.

“Fine, fine. I’d be better if you joined me for a dance.” He extended his hand, though she only stared it.

Sansa became acutely aware of the whispers that were starting now. He’d said her name so loudly, that it had of course, attracted attention from some bystanders. She shook her head. “I-I don’t think I feel like dancing-“

He waved her words away with a shark-like grin. “Nonsense, I insist. I know you love dancing, you used to beg me all the time for dances.” Joffrey moved closer, his voice a harsh whisper in her ear. “ _Don’t cause a scene_.” There was a sudden pressure at her wrist and then he was pulling her down the staircase and towards the hub of the dance floor.

A quiet fury rumbled in her chest. She wanted so badly to pull away, but just like Joffrey said, it would cause a scene. So many people with cameras, with connections, they would all be a captive audience if she refused.

She moved robotically, placing her hand on his shoulder and the other in his cold grasp. Although she felt his gaze on her, she didn’t look him in the eye, choosing instead to look at the buttons of his suit. They were engraved with gold lions, the symbol of his mother’s family.

“You changed your number.” He said simply. There was bite to his tone, and Sansa hated how helpless she felt.

“I did.” She said, evenly. “I didn’t appreciate all the messages you so thoughtfully sent.”

Joffrey laughed easily, “You were always so ungrateful. Was it Jon who forced you to change your number?”

Sansa hesitated, “No. He doesn’t know about them.”

“Oh?” Joffrey sounded disappointed. “Shame, would have been fun for him to find out. You want to know something really funny, Sansa?”

_No._ Sansa didn’t know where this was going, but there was a deep unease in her stomach when she saw the sneer on his face. “You know those photos you sent me at the beginning of our relationship?”

Sansa’s mouth went dry, “You _wouldn’t_.” It had been so long ago, but at his mention, it all came back with terrifying clarity.

“I would.” He smiled. “Now, I don’t think you’ll be able to keep that from him. And I don’t think he’ll be the only one interested in those photos.”

The color washed out of Sansa’s face, and she felt faint, dropping her hands to her side. “I-I don’t-.”

“ _Mind if I cut in_?”

Sansa almost went limp at relief, at the sound of Jon Snow’s voice.

Jon stood there looking pissed as hell, his jaw taut and grey eyes darkly narrowed on Joffrey. His bowtie was slightly askew, but otherwise he looked perfect to Sansa.

“Joffrey,” Jon nodded tightly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a dance with my girlfriend.”

The blonde spread his arms, in a magnanimous gesture. “Of course, of course. Don’t let me ruin the night for you two.” Sansa’s face soured at that, _too late, bastard._ Joffrey moved away, “I’ll be here all night.”

Sansa exhaled hard, feeling the tension leave her body. “I’m glad you’re here.” She managed. “How was rehearsals?” She asked brightly, wanting to forget the entire interaction with Joffrey.

Jon frowned. “Sansa, what did he want?” He ran a hand through his curls, still looking after Joffrey’s retreating figure with flashing eyes. “Was he bothering you?”

She reached for his hand, interlacing it with her own and then placed his other hand on her waist. It did the trick, Jon looked away, surprised at her touch. “Don’t bother with him. Let’s just dance!” Sansa fought to maintain a smile. She felt nauseous and even Jon’s warm grasp couldn’t ease her nerves completely. Joffrey had her photos. If they ever got out, her chances at the film would be kaput, her parents would be horrified, _everything_ could go wrong.

“You look beautiful.” Jon intoned, lowly. Sansa’s face warmed, momentarily forgetting her unease, she’d only been waiting the entire night to hear those words from him. Tons of people had complimented her, loving her silver Zuhair Murad gown, with its intricate beading detail and flowing skirt that complimented her tall figure, but she’d been waiting for him to see her.

“You’re not bad, yourself.” Sansa smiled, shyly. She decided, Jon Snow in a tuxedo was her favorite outfit yet.

She felt the acute increase of pressure as Jon’s grip on her waist tightened. “About Joffrey-“

Sansa flushed, “I don’t want to talk about this. Can we just, move on from this? We can get a drink-”

Jon’s lips pressed into a grimace, and for a second there, it looked like he would drop the subject. “I know about the text messages.”

Sansa’s stomach dropped. “How?” Had he been going through her phone? She hadn’t told anybody about it, so how did he…?

His grey eyes fell. “That one time you got the text in front of me,” He mumbled. “I know, I shouldn’t have looked, but I did. It was from Joffrey wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” She nodded, faintly. “But, it doesn’t matter anymore.” She insisted. “I changed my number, remember? I dealt with that, just like I’ll deal with this situation.”

Jon stopped swaying to the music. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “Something else happened?”

_Jesus Christ, well done Sansa._ “No.” She stuck out her chin, stubbornly.

“You kept the text messages from me.” Jon gritted out. “You have every right to keep things from me, but you also don’t have to deal with Joffrey by yourself. If there’s something else that’s bothering you, I’d like to help.” His eyes held her gaze intently and Sansa’s eyes dropped down.

Sansa had wanted the night to be anything but this. “Joffrey, he has photos-of me.”

Instantaneously, she felt Jon go rigid under her hands. “They’re nothing explicit,” She mumbled, ashamed. At the time it just seemed like dumb fun. She’d been with Jeyne, after a haul from Victoria’s Secret, posing in a scanty pair of panties and matching bra. She’d thought of nothing but impressing Joffrey. “It’s just me in underwear, but, he’s threatened to release them. _I_ sent them to him so it’s my fault, really, and like I said I’ll handle it-“

Jon’s jaw tightened, and his hands dropped from her waist, as he promptly turned on his heel.

“Jon?” Sansa called out. She grabbed her skirts, following after him.

Was this his way of saying he was done pretending with her? That there was too much drama involved, that now he was finally calling it quits? Sansa struggled to keep up with the fast pace he was setting. _Where was he going?_

The answer became clear after a few moments, when Joffrey came into view. He was lounging against the bar, a glass in hand and chatting up a pretty blonde. Confusion settled in Sansa’s mind, before it hit her.

_Jon wouldn’t_ , Sansa froze into place, her heart caught in her throat. She watched as Jon strode up to Joffrey, fury radiating off his body, his shoulders strung tight with tension. Sansa couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“ _Baratheon_!” Jon growled out. The smug blonde looked up, surprise flickering into his face -- before Jon’s fist connected with his jaw.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i've been using arctic monkeys song titles for the the titles of the chapters and when I saw they had a song called 'put your dukes up john' i knew i had to put in a scene like this. 
> 
> hope you enjoyed!! xoxo as always, leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed, much love :)


	10. Do I Wanna Know?

**BREAKING: Brawl at Winter Gala - Jon Snow Throws Punch at Joffrey Baratheon!**

_The annual Winter Gala held by the esteemed Stark family, was thrown into chaos when a fight broke out between Jon Snow and Joffrey Baratheon, early on in the night. As of yet, there is no footage of the actual punch, but partygoers were quick to capture multiple videos of the aftermath. The videos show the Baratheon heir in pain due to the injury he sustained. He was also recorded shouting multiple insults, mostly aimed at Sansa Stark._

_An eyewitness, who wished to remain anonymous, spoke exclusively with us. She said: “I was at the party with a couple of friends. We were getting drinks at the bar and Joffrey Baratheon was already there, talking with another girl. All of a sudden, Jon Snow stormed up and he swung, hitting Joffrey. Joffrey fell to the ground, and he was screaming, calling Jon a ‘bastard’ and he was also yelling at Sansa Stark, who was watching a few feet away. She looked horrified. He was saying terrible things calling her a ‘dumb b*tch’ and so on.”_

_“And then, when Joffrey got back up, Jon looked like he was going to hit him again but Robb Stark came out of nowhere and he told Jon to calm down. It was like out of a movie. Everybody was silent and frozen, because we didn’t know how to react. Security eventually came and they escorted Joffrey away.”_

_Jon Snow and Joffrey Baratheon have a tumultuous history due to their connection through Sansa Stark. Baratheon dated Stark a while back, and their tense break-up was caught on video as well. Jon Snow and Sansa Stark recently began dating, however Jon Snow has been close to the Stark family for many years, now, attending the same university as the eldest Stark son, Robb._

_Although Joffrey was seen with actress and socialite Margaery Tyrell, not long after his break-up with Sansa, it has been rumored that the Baratheon heir was jealous and angry about Sansa Stark and Jon Snow’s relationship._

_Spokespeople for both the Baratheon and Stark families declined to comment however, Jon Snow’s publicist did release a statement, saying, “Jon Snow regrets that his actions disrupted a night of hard work and dedication by the Stark family. He has sincerely apologized to the members of the Stark family for his outburst.” Many were quick to point out the absence of any apology towards the Baratheon heir._

_Jon Snow is about to embark on a tour to promote his latest album, and it looks as though it will proceed without any issue, despite the events of last night._

* * *

“Well, that’s just poor journalism. One punch is hardly a brawl.”

“Arya Lyanna Stark!”

“I’m just saying.” Arya put up her hands, defensively. “I would have loved to show everybody a real brawl. It’s no fair Jon was the only one who got a punch in.”

Sansa’s lips pressed tightly together, surveying the table, wearily. Her mother and father sat at one end of the great oak table, looking suitably worried and chagrined, while the three eldest Stark siblings and Jon sat on the opposite end. Catelyn Stark had called an emergency family meeting due to the events that had transpired, something Sansa had not been looking forward to.

“Arya, please.” Jon rubbed at his face. “This isn’t something I’m proud of.” He mumbled, weakly. If Jon wasn’t proud, than Sansa would be proud for him. She was glad Joffrey had got hit, gods knew, he had it coming. She remembered, the pure fury she’d seen in his face, the way his eyes had darkened violently as he’d stalked away in search for Joffrey.

Right after Robb had dragged Jon away into a private room, she hadn’t realized she was quivering with anger, until Jon gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re shivering.” He muttered, before pulling his suit jacket off to cover her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Jon had pulled her into his arms, mumbling apology after apology into her hair.

She knew exactly what he felt guilty about.

The incident was bound to hit Sansa harder than Jon. This was just how it was. Nobody cared that some front-man for an indie band threw a punch. It was all part of his tough-rocker image. That was exciting for fans to hear, and even though it happened days before Jon was to go on tour, his label, although they did sharply reprimand him, gave no further action. The tabloid was already spinning stories of the motive behind Jon’s punch. Some claimed Sansa was still seeing Joffrey behind Jon’s back, while others insisted Sansa had egged Jon on to punch Joffrey, still angry at her former ex.

“I wanted to formally apologize, Mr. and Mrs. Stark.” Jon spoke now, eyes filled with regret. “I acted irresponsibly and I know how much work you put into the event, especially you, Mrs. Stark.” His head dipped down in shame.

Catelyn nodded, but there was still an iciness in her eyes. Her mother’s baby had been the Gala, forgiveness would not come easy. “Sansa has told us you were only acting in her defense. Ned and I are grateful for that of course, but we still don’t understand why you swung first, without a warning.”

Arya snorted, “Mom, he’s not going to go, ‘Oh Joffrey, mate, look out!” before swinging. That’s now how fights work.”

Sansa watched as Robb covered his mouth discretely to hide a laugh. Their mother breathed through her nose, sharply. “One more comment, Arya, _one more comment_.” Arya nodded, miming zipping her lips shut.

Ned Stark cleared his throat, “We just want to get a better idea of what happened last night. Jon?”

Jon’s eyes nervously flitted to Sansa. And then she felt a warm pressure at her hand, as he squeezed it softly. “It was my fault.” Jon declared, firmly. “I got angry, I wasn’t even listening to Sansa, when she asked me to stop.” It was an evasive answer, Sansa realized with a start. Jon, was still trying to keep her safe, but this time, from her parent’s anger.

“But, what provoked you?” Catelyn pressed.

“I-“Jon stuttered. “I was-“

“He was defending me.” Sansa interrupted. “He was defending me, because Joffrey has photos of me.” It all come out in one _whoosh_ of breath and it was as though time was moving in slow motion as Sansa registered each person’s reaction. Her father’s eyes flew wide open. Her mother let out a quiet, ‘ _Dear God_ ’. Robb’s knuckles tightened around the cup of water he’d been holding. Arya was still as a statue. Jon only squeezed her hand again, a warm reassuring reminder that he was still there.

She kept her gaze down, cheeks coloring pink. “They’re nothing explicit. Just me in underwear. But he threatened to release them.” Her right hand twisted the fabric of her sweater, nervously.

“The bastard threatened to release them?” Robb echoed with a snarl. “I’ll _ruin_ him.”

“I’ll kill him.” Arya countered, haughtily.

Her siblings’ immediate rise to defense caused the edges of her eyes to prickle with tears. She loved them both so much, and the fact that they had no harsh words of judgement was such a relief. Sansa managed a watery smile, “Thanks guys. I don’t think it would due to have another scandal on her hands, but it’s the thought that counts.” She heaved in a deep breath, turning to her parents. “Mom, dad. I know this is not at all what you wanted to hear. I’m sorry for all of this- I’ll deal with the consequences.”

Catelyn’s lip pursed together. And then she sighed, heavily. “Sansa I _warned_ you not to be reckless.” The disappointment in her mother’s voice gutted Sansa. “But, I don’t think you’re at fault for any of this. You’re not a little girl anymore, as hard as that is for your father and me to accept at times.” Her father nodded. “I don’t know exactly what to say, but what I do know, is that some low-life brat is threatening my daughter, and that he’ll pay for it.”

Sansa’s mouth dropped open. She’d never heard her mother speak with such malice in her voice.

Arya giggled behind her hand, “Oh _shit_.”

Robb eased back with a satisfied grin. “So, what now? We’re all going to storm the Baratheon estate with torches and pitchforks? If anything, I want to at least throw a punch in.”

Their father shook his head, “We’ll do nothing of the sort. Though,” his glance went towards Jon. “Now that we know how Joffrey provoked you, I’m sure I would have done the same, Jon.”

Sansa’s cheeks warmed. She didn’t know what on earth she would do without her family.

Eddard Stark stood, looking imposing as ever. “I’ll give Robert a call. Those picture aren’t getting out Sansa. I promise it."                                  

* * *

 

“I’m sorry about all this.”

Jon looked up from his mug of cocoa, blinking twice, in confusion. “What are you apologizing for?” His brow furrowed, as though deeply unhappy at her words.

The two of them sat comfortably on the plush sofa in the massive living room, while a rerun of _Elf_ played on the TV, though the both of them barely paid it attention. After their impromptu family meeting was dismissed, things had settled back down. Catelyn Stark was bustling around in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Robb had left just moments earlier, to meet with a friend, while Arya, Bran, and Rickon went to go ice skating down by the lake. Although the situation was all but, resolved, the issue of _Jon_ was still nagging at her.

The issue was: she _liked_ Jon. There was no way around it. She’d done the most idiotic thing possible, and fell for her fake boyfriend. Well, the most idiotic thing was proposing the idea in the first place, but she was hardly going to get caught up in semantics.

“What else would I be apologizing for.” She rolled her eyes, bumping her shoulder against his, “For forcing you to play the knight in shining armor. It’s probably not what you thought would have happened when I first asked you to help me out.”

Jon’s eyes softened, and his gaze dropped down to the cup of cocoa, “Nobody’s forcing me to do anything, Sansa.” Sansa’s stomach fluttered at that. “I would have had the same reaction, regardless. I’ve known you forever now.”

Sansa forced herself to shove down any silly thought of hopefulness at his words. He was right. He had known their family forever. If he had any feelings toward her, it was familial at best. It had to be. But, sitting right across from him, feeling his warmth and seeing the fine lines of his face when he grinned up at her, made it so hard to believe that. _Just, tell him, Sansa_. T _ell him how you feel, before he leaves._

“If anything,” Jon spoke, “It should be me apologizing profusely.” He put down his cup and his hands clasped together, nervously. “I know you were really excited for that film and if I messed up your chances in any way-“he trailed off, his face paling. “I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

“Jon,” Sansa shook her head, “Nothing’s going to happen with that. They know the tabloids are trash. And, anyways, they haven’t cancelled my callback. If they didn’t want me to begin with, I know they would just give Shae a call to save some time and money.”

He ran a hand through his tangled curls, “Still,” he exhaled. “I’m just glad it’s over now. Right?”

“Hm?” Sansa tilted her head, questioningly.

Jon eyed her, carefully. “The game of pretend.” He replied, with a questioning brow. “Gala’s over, and I may have gone a bit overboard, towards the end, but I would say I’ve been a pretty good fake boyfriend.” He smiled, a boyish grin that made him look younger and mischievous.

“Right.” Sansa forced a smile. “Gala’s over.” She repeated mechanically. A bitter taste came into her mouth. God, she’d been so stupid. Of course Jon had always been playing a part. There was some irony in the fact that she was the actress out of the two of them, and yet she was the being fooled by it all. Before Jon could notice any change in her demeanor she brightened her false smile, “I wouldn’t get too cocky, but yeah, I’d say you were satisfactory.”

“Satisfactory,” Jon winced, “Ouch. That’s not promising.” It was really the opposite. He’d been perfection. He was kind, sweet, handsome, funny, and all the corny adjectives out there that she could think of, that she once upon a time dreamed about having for her imaginary husband, as a little kid. Only now, he wasn’t imaginary, but she still couldn’t have him.

“So how are we going to do this?”

The word felt heavy on Sansa’s tongue, “Break up, you mean?”

Jon hummed in response.

She shrugged, her smile slipping off her face. “We’ll think of something. We don’t have to worry too much about it now. You’ll be on tour, starting tomorrow. If anything, Shae can always leak something out.” _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Jon was silent and then before she could react, he slung a lazy arm over her shoulder, pulling her tight against his chest. He’d done it many times before to her, in public, but it still brought a traitorous flutter to her stomach. “Guess, we should enjoy our last day together then.” He grinned, teasingly

 It was all so perfect, Sansa realized achingly. Just the two of them, snuggled against each other on the warm, cozy couch. So she settled for doing exactly that, enjoying their last day together. He would never have to know about how she felt. She’d bury it all away, tomorrow.

But for now, she still had today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i might need an extra chapter, but so far shooting for 2-3 more chapters of this story?? wow times flies FAST. hope you enjoyed this latest update! took me a little while longer to get this one out ( i know) but i promise now more extended hiatuses like the last one i took in between ch. 6 and 7 LOL. love y'all!!!


	11. Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

Robb Stark’s love life was turning out to be quite eventful, well _messy_ was probably the better word to use.

That was the kind of word tabloid papers liked to use. _Messy, Illicit, Scandalous._ All very nice buzzwords, and all very damning, if this relationship got out to his family, let alone to the public.

Was this how Jon and Sansa felt, sneaking around for god knows how long, before finally coming clean? He still couldn’t fathom how the two ended up together, but at the same time, now that he looked back, there were little signs here and there that should have given it away.

His little sister and his best friend. Who would have known?

Robb shook the thoughts away, he was late already as it was. He stepped out of the car, putting on his baseball cap low over his brow and slipping on dark shades. It didn’t seem as though any paparazzi had tailed him from the house, but he could never be too sure.

The agreed meeting place, a quiet coffee shop nestled inside a nondescript shopping plaza, was still decorated with holiday wreaths and tinsel even though it was a good 2 weeks past Christmas. Robb scanned the shop, his eyes landing on the beauty he had quickly fallen head over heels with in the past month.

She caught his gaze, and her pink lips curved into a familiar half-smirk, half-smile.

He chuckled, striding over. She’d already ordered an espresso for him. There was also a small plate of lemon cakes that Robb eyed hungrily.

He bent over, capturing her lips in a quick kiss, before sliding into his seat. “Miss Tyrell.”

Margaery grinned impishly. “Mister Stark.” She nodded, her tone taking on a faux solemnity. “You’re late.”

“It takes time to come up with excuses. Mom got overly curious.” He said, by way of explanation.

She smirked, knowingly. “I take it she wouldn’t be very happy knowing her son was shacking up with a Tyrell, let alone one that dated her daughter’s psychotic ex.”

Robb merely nodded. His mom, or anybody in his family for that matter, didn’t need to know.

 It was nothing serious, this thing between him and Margaery. They were just having fun. She’d broken things off with Joffrey, ever since they caught each other’s eye at the gala, so they weren’t doing anything wrong. She’d never even liked Joffrey to begin with, Robb thought smugly, she’d only dated him to satisfy her parent’s wishes. He had separate reasons for pursuing Margaery, but it also helped that he got a petty thrill, every time he was with her, knowing that he had stolen her away from the rat-faced bastard.

Margaery pushed the plate of pastries toward Robb. “Lemon cakes. You better eat, I know you always forget to at work.” She chided, her nose wrinkling, cutely.

“Thanks, Marg.” He dove in greedily. “You know, nobody in my family loves these more than Sansa.”

Margaery’s doe eyes sharpened. “How is she, by the way? That whole thing with Joffrey-” she shuddered, “-was terrible. I can’t imagine what would have happened if Jon hadn’t stepped in.”

“She’s fine.” He shrugged. The whole incident had shaken Sansa, of course. The coward had the nerve to confront Sansa at their family’s party. If Jon hadn’t punched him in the face, when he did, Robb sure would have. “She’s been quieter lately, though. Probably since Jon’s been on tour.”

“They’re cute!” Margaery chirped. “We should double date. I’ve always wanted to go on one of those, a double date, I mean.”

Robb choked on his coffee. “No, absolutely, not.” He cleared his throat, “I’m pretty sure Sansa isn’t too fond of you. Aside from the whole Joffrey thing, you guys are competing for the same role as actresses.”

“Well, tell her not to worry about that.” Margaery tossed a curl behind her shoulder. “I didn’t get the part.” She said it so matter-of-factly. “But _she’s_ on the shortlist.” She winced, “Ah, sorry, should have waited for her to find out and then tell you, herself.”

Robb blinked, unsure of how to feel. He felt bad for Margaery, but also thrilled for his sister. “How did you find out?”

Margaery leaned forward with a conspiratorial wink, “I have my ways. And don’t make that face, handsome. You can be happy for Sansa, I’m not upset about not getting the role.”

“You aren’t?” He frowned.

“I’m not.” She confirmed. “I have a good feeling about this other part, I’m in the running for. Besides,” she shrugged. “It’d be awfully tiring, if I was angry about every part I didn’t get. I’m an actress, I’m used to rejection.”

“Rejection for roles, I’m sure.” Robb grinned, “Rejection for men, though, that’s another story.”

One perfect eyebrow arched curiously, “That sounds an awful lot like jealousy, Robb Stark.” Her brown eyes narrowed, deviously. “For someone so insistent on a causal relationship, you’re pretty territorial.”

Robb leaned back easily, “They don’t call me the Young Wolf of Winterfell for nothing.”

Margaery rolled her eyes, “The Young Wolf of Winterfell and the Rose of Highgarden.” She crooned, mockingly. “We sound like a sappy medieval tale.”

“I like sappy medieval tales.” Robb protested.

“Well then,” Margaery tilted her head, “How does this tale go, then?”

“In this tale,” Robb pretended to think. “The Rose invites the Wolf over to her place. And they have sex. Lots of it.”

“Does she?” She questioned with a playful smile on her lips.

“She does.”

“Well,” Margaery sighed, helplessly. “Then I guess it’s settled.” She put down her coffee and stood up, her warm hand, reaching out to pull him along, as she headed for the exit. Robb obliged, without hesitation. The Tyrell heiress looked back at him with that perfect half-smile. Everything about her was stunning, Robb could have sworn, his heart skipped a beat.

* * *

_One month._

_One whole month of being a pathetic mess_ , Jon thought, scowling at his fogged-up reflection in the mirror. He scrubbed at his face tiredly, as though it would make the dark bags underneath in his eyes fade. Fuck, he needed to get ahold of himself.

“Jon! You almost done?”

“Yeah, give me a second, Sam.” Jon called back, not able to bite back the irritation that seeped into his voice.

_Stop being a sad sack and get on with it._ These internal reprimands had become almost routine for Jon. This was supposed to be the greatest time of his life, moving stage to stage, reveling in the crowd’s cheers, and having _his_ music being sang by thousands of people every night. And every time he was on stage, it _was_ the greatest time, it was what happened after he stepped off stage, the adrenaline draining away, leaving him to his thoughts. And his thoughts usually strayed to…

“By the way!” Sam’s voice came again. “Sansa called.” _Speak of the devil._

He stumbled out of the hotel bathroom, tucking a towel around his waist. “What? You mean just now?”

Sam looked up, from his place on the bed. In the background a re-run of some kid’s cartoon played on the hotel’s TV set. “While you were in the shower. I told her you would be out in a couple of minutes.” Sam held up Jon’s phone. “Here, call her back.”

Jon’s fingers twitched at his side, “You picked up my phone?”

“Yeah.” Sam looked away, embarrassed. “I figured it was okay. I let it go to voicemail the first time. The second time, I thought it might be an emergency.”

Jon exhaled. He wasn’t angry at Sam, but if Sansa had said something to Sam…“And was it? An emergency, I mean?”

Sam fidgeted nervously. “Not exactly. She just wanted to talk to you. But she did sound a little…” Jon’s eyes narrowed. “She sounded a little…teary. I think she probably had a couple of drinks. But I heard her sister in the background, so she’s fine, I’m sure.”

“Teary.” Jon echoed. He fought the urge to snatch up his phone and call Sansa. She made it clear, that once the gala was over, so was their game of pretend. It hadn’t been anything more from her end. For Jon, somewhere he messed it up and gotten the line blurred between real and fake. He hadn’t realized it until he’d seen Joffrey sniveling on the ground and realized he’d gone into a blind rage, trying to defend Sansa He’d done more damage than help.

He shook his head. If he called her, he would say something, he would regret. “Yeah, you’re right. She’ll be fine.” Jon nodded towards the bathroom, “Shower’s free.”

Sam blinked. His mouth opened and then closed. And then opened again. “That’s it?” Sam sat up straight, his feet swinging over the edge of the bed. “I mean, don’t you want to make sure that she’s fine?”

Jon pasted on a tight smile, digging his toes into the carpet. _Of course I fucking do._ “You said it yourself. She’s with Arya. Sometimes she gets a little emotional when she drinks, but she’ll be fine.” He shrugged, trudging over to his suitcase to pull out a ratty tee and sleeping shorts.

“Are you two… fighting?” Jon turned sharply. “I-I just mean, well, everybody’s noticed Jon.” Sam’s head bobbed. “You’ve been irritable ever since the tour started. You used to call Sansa in between rehearsal breaks, but no one’s even seen you touch your phone. I know it’s not my business, but we’ve been mates forever, and I’m just worried about you.”

Jon looked up at the ceiling, exhausted, letting out a sigh. “We’re taking a break. Right before I left, we sort of decided it would be best to just take a couple steps back.

Sam’s brown eyes turned down, sadly. “Shit, sorry, Jon. I know you liked her a lot.”

_The understatement of the century_. Jon ran a hand through his curls, his stomach knotting. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. Coming face to face with just how much Sansa meant to him, was just going to make it that much more painful. “Yeah, I really did. Sometimes, things don’t work out though.”

“You should call her back.”

“Sam-“

“She just sounded, really _sad_.” Sam raised his hands, helplessly. “I know I wasn’t so nice about you dating her, when you first told us. I was an asshole. But, seeing you with her, was the happiest I’ve seen you in years.”

“You don’t understand.” Jon swallowed hard. “It wasn’t…“

_It wasn’t real for her._

* * *

He ended up calling anyways. Jon had never felt so much self-loathing as he did, standing on the rooftop of the hotel, the thick smell of cigarette smoke hanging around him like a dark cloud. It didn’t help that he was able to sneak in a couple of shots before the rooftop bar closed, his mind already a foggy mess.

It rang four times before she picked up.

“Hello?” She sounded sleepy, rightly so, it was nearly 1 AM. She probably never even opened her eyes to check the caller ID before picking up.

“Sans,” His voice came out all thick and scratchy. “It’s me.”

He could hear her breath catch in her throat. “Jon.” She was silent for a couple beats and then she said, “It’s late, is everything okay?”

_No._ _I’m so in love with you, I feel fucking sick to my stomach about it._ “Uh, yeah.” He shifted his weight around. “I just wanted to call back. Sam said you called--I was showering so I missed it.”

“Right.” He could hear the rustling of bed sheets and the click of a light switch. “Were you showering last week, or the week before that too?” She laughed softly, but there was a bite to her tone.

“I’m an ass.” He admitted, his chest thumping painfully. He took one last drag of his cigarette, and then flicked it to the ground, stamping it out. “I’ve been avoiding your calls.” It’s like he’s having an out-of-body experience. The conversation doesn’t feel real, it’s been so long since he’s heard her voice, he’s almost 90% sure he’s dreaming up this entire dialogue.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He murmurs miserably. The shots he downed are taking effect, and he hears the words tumble out of his mouth, before he’s even processed his thoughts. “I couldn’t separate real from fake, with you. I wanted it to be real, and I hate myself for that.”

She was silent, on the other end.

“Please say something,” he mustered weakly. _God he needed another drink._

“Another drink?” Sansa echoed. Jon blinked twice, unaware that he had actually said that last part aloud. “Are you – drunk?” There was no accusation in her voice.

Jon rubbed impatiently at the stubble on his chin. “I had a couple of drinks, it’s not a big deal.” That wasn’t what was important. For Christ’s sakes he had all but confessed his love for Sansa and this was what she was preoccupied with?

“Jon.” Sansa murmured. “We should have this conversation later. You’re drunk and maybe you’re not thinking straight-“

“Later?” Jon snorted. He felt emboldened now, the alcohol giving him liquid courage. “I’m on tour for 2 more months. I don’t want to have this conversation in two months. Should I fly back to Winterfell tomorrow morning so that we can talk? I want to have this conversation now, so I can stop _feeling_ like this.”

“You should sleep.” Sansa cut in sharply. “If you want to talk so bad, then call me when you’re sober and not at a godawful time.”

Jon opened his mouth ready to argue, but the line promptly went dead, as Sansa hung up. _Jesus Christ_ , he was an idiot. A stupid, love-struck idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back!!!! i've been busy this past month studying for this huge entrance exam for school, so sorry about the delay! next chapter is the last one?? so crazy. it will most likely be a very large chapter, to tie up loose ends. but, thank you so much to everybody who's been reading this story and being along for the journey. i so appreciate all your kind words of feedback. till the next :)


	12. I Wanna Be Yours

Sansa cautiously peered into the high-school gym, trying to discern which masked figure was her sister. It was a relatively easy task, as Arya was the smallest girl on the fencing team, but she moved quicker than them all. She wielded the sabre as though it was a mere extension of her body, and with a blink of an eye, she’d scored off her opponent. Sansa watched proudly, as Arya removed her mask, a victorious grin on her lips.

She moved forward to call for her sister, when she was cut off by a broad shouldered boy headed towards Arya. Arya’s brown eyes _actually_ lit up, and she greeted him with a punch to the shoulder. If it had been anybody but Arya, she could have sworn there was a flirtatiousness to it. Sansa suppressed a smirk, _interesting._

“Well done, Stark.” The mystery boy smiled. It was a nice smile, one that reminded her of Jon, in a way.

“Easy opponent, easy win.” Arya huffed. “I need more practice.”

“Well if you want, I’m-“

Sansa, nosy older sister that she was, had leaned closer, to hear more of the conversation, but that caused Arya to spot her. Bright eyes frowned in confusion, “Sansa? Hold up,” She turned to the boy, and gestured for him to wait.  “Sorry, that’s my sister. I’ll be back.”

Arya jogged over. As she came closer, Sansa could see that her brow was completely sweat drenched. Despite that, her eyes gave no notion of any sort of tiredness, instead, they were alight with a bright curiosity. “Sans, you never come out to my practices.” There was no accusation in her tone, just genuine confusion.

Sansa bumped her hips against Arya’s, teasingly. “Who was _that_?”

“What?” Arya blinked, looking back to follow Sansa’s gaze. “Oh, that’s just Gendry. He’s a senior- like me. He’s an idiot, but he’s pretty decent.”

“A senior?” Sansa echoed. The boy could have easily passed for a college sophomore with his tall and muscled physique. She thought he was at least the assistant coach or something along those lines. “Well, he’s cute!” Sansa nudged Arya.

A bright flush bloomed on Arya’s cheeks. “Are you crazy?” She hissed. “Ew, _no._ Why are we even talking about this? You did not come all this way for girl talk.”

Sansa sighed. “Yeah, I didn’t.” She shifted nervously, “I-Jon called me, last night.” She was going to wait till Arya came home from school, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to tell _somebody_. It was eating away at her, and what if Jon had called her before she’d had the chance to consult for advice?

Arya was the only one who knew about the fake arrangement between her and Jon. She also was the only one who Sansa had told about her feelings for Jon, which she’d spent so long trying to deny. Arya had dragged Sansa out the night before to a friend’s party, with the intention of breaking her out of her moping.

“After the party?” Arya asked. Then her dark eyes narrowed, suspiciously. “Sansa! Did you drunk-call him?”

“He didn’t pick up!” Sansa retorted, defensively. “It was Sam that picked up. I don’t even remember what I said. But I guess Sam forced him to call me, because after we got back from the party, I crashed, and then I got a call from him.” She swallowed hard.  “We talked for a bit. By that time I had sobered up.” She added the last part, but the judgement didn’t fade from Arya’s eyes.

“So what did he say?” Arya prompted, exasperated.

Her heart gave a lurch, remembering every word. “He said,” She took a gulp. “He said he had wanted it to be real. And obviously he was talking about our relationship, right?” She pressed. Sansa needed validation she hadn’t interpreted his words, incorrectly. What else could he have meant?

She’d played the conversation back in head only a thousand times, before going back to bed. It was a confession in every way, but a part of her couldn’t help but doubt, through the delirious happiness she wanted to feel. Joffrey had said similar things at the beginning as well, he’d said it many times, but all she had to show for it was fading bruises and a scarred heart.

Joffrey is not Jon. _Joffrey is not Jon_. She forced herself to remember that, Jon had always been kind to her. Jon was Jon, he would never intentionally hurt her.

“Isn’t that what you wanted? You look like somebody ran over a puppy.” Arya frowned. She crossed her arms, “He likes you, and you like him, so go bang him and stop crying.”

“Arya,” Sansa cringed. “I mean- he was sort of, well _drunk._ He was slurring over his words, and I don’t know, how can I know it wasn’t something he just said because he had one too many drinks? If I call him again about this, what if he doesn’t even remember what he said, and I just look like an idiot-“

Her sister stopped her mid-sentence, grabbing her shoulders, “Sansa. Stop.” Sansa obliged, her lips tightening. Her little sister fixed her with a firm frown. “I’m only going to say this once, in my whole entire life, so listen up.”

“You’re beautiful, annoyingly beautiful, actually sometimes it’s fucking irritating.” Arya cleared her throat, “But, that’s beside the point. You’re also one of the most selfless people I know. I always think about that time in middle school, when dad was in the hospital for his surgery and mom had to stay at the hospital with him for months, and Rob was off at college, you took care of 3 bratty children, and made sure we didn’t kill each other. That’s no small feat.” Arya’s grip tightened, “You’re amazing. You’re beautiful. There’s no way that Jon doesn’t care about you, the way you do for him. I swear to god if he was an emoji, it would be that stupid heart-eye one, because that’s exactly what he looks like, every time he’s around you. So go do something it, because the both of you are driving me insane, with his will-they-won’t-they bullshit.”

Sansa felt traitorous tears prickling at the back of her eyes. “God damn it. I’m actually going to cry.” She added with a mumble, “You suck.”

Arya rolled her eyes, “Of course you are. Well, like I said, this touchy-feely thing is not happening again, so remember it while you can.” She proffered her towel to Sansa, “Here.”

The towel smelled strongly of sweat, but it didn’t matter, she dabbed at the edges of her eyes, obediently. And before Arya could get away from her, she pulled her in for a tight hug. “Love you lots.” She muttered into her brown hair.

“Yeah, yeah.” Arya pulled away. “You owe me big time, if this ends up working out.”

Sansa smiled, tearily. “Well, wish me luck, because I’m about to do something very stupid, I feel.”

Arya’s brow rose, “What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged, trying to project an air of nonchalance. “Haven’t decided the specifics, but I feel like, you might read about it in the tabloids.”

“Huh,” Arya smirked, a cat-like grin stretching her lips. “Better make it worth my while, then.”

* * *

_“Encore! Encore! Encore! Encore!”_

Behind the curtain, the band, quickly toweled off their sweat, and gulped down water.

“Fucking hell,” Tormund grimaced, “I think my stamina is getting worse and worse every show.”

“That’s called aging, Tor.” Sam quipped, cracking his knuckles and neck by moving it side to side.

Tormund glared at the drummer, “Says the geezer, whose joints keep popping in and out.”

Jon let out a short bark of laughter. He was exhausted as well, but the adrenaline of the crowd during the encore was his favorite part of touring. “We ready?” He grabbed his guitar.

Sam nodded, then paused, “Say, did you guys see the hulking guy in the front section? Guy looked like he was not having a good time. His face was sort of-disfigured too, looked like a mean bloke.”

“Last thing I’m paying attention to is the guys in the crowd,” Tormund shot back, “I’m still into women, Tarly, are you?”

“Ha. Ha.” Sam deadpanned, and then turned to Jon, “I’ll point him out, when we go out. I swear I’ve seen him before.”

Jon nodded towards their stage manager, signaling for the stage lights to come back on. The curtain parted, and the walked out to a loud din of cheers.

Sam clapped Jon’s back, as he passed by to hit his mark. “Mate, in the left section, the one with the huge facial scar.”

Jon looked over, half-interested, until he realized with a start, that he recognized the man as well. It was Sandor Clegane. One of the Stark family’s bodyguards. Clegane didn’t strike Jon as the type of person to enjoy concerts, which meant that one of the Stark children had to be here.

He squinted, into the crowd, trying to sharpen his vision through the bright lights. He shoved down the little voice that whispered traitorously in his ear, _‘It could be Sansa.’_ There’s no way it would be her. She would never do such a stupid thing.

 Arya and Robb hadn’t said anything, but maybe they were trying to surprise them. None of the concertgoers, though, around Clegane had Arya’s long face or Robb’s red curls.

That was when he saw her.

She was hiding under a black baseball cap, but he would recognize the copper tone of her red hair anywhere. Her blue eyes looked up at the stage, reluctantly, and then she met his gaze, looking suitably terrified. He blinked, scared that she would disappear the moment he re-opened his eyes, but she was still standing there, as beautiful as she always was, _Sansa Stark_.

* * *

Sansa had never seen Jon perform live before today, but now that she had, she was pretty sure she was going to think of little else for years to come.

Hearing his voice on the album she’d just bought, paled in comparison to hearing it reverberate around the entire venue. Jon brought every lyric to life with his strong voice that had just an edge of rasp to it bringing raw emotion to the stage, song after song. And god, the way he moved on stage, was particularly sinful. He never broke into an outright dance (it was still Jon), but he was always moving, swaying to the music, that made it hard not to pay attention to the way his jeans fit snugly around his hips, or the way his threadbare shirt, outlined the shape of his muscles.

One girl, a busty brunette, who had bumped into Sansa, earlier, trying to move closer to the stage had shouted out, “Jesus fucking Christ, Jon Snow, warn a girl first!” And Sansa couldn’t even bring herself to be irritated, because she agreed with every word.

 It was an odd experience, hanging out, right underneath Jon’s nose, as he performed, but she also found herself enjoying it. This was the Jon Snow, she had never seen. He was unrestrained on stage, all wild curls, and raw energy. Jon always seemed to be holding back with her, and maybe, just maybe, she hoped, it was because he was afraid of his feelings.

She hated herself, for never going to one show. Robb had always pleaded and begged for her to come along, but she’d always refused. Jon must have thought her cold and uncaring. No wonder he’d been so quick to call off their dating arrangement, it would be just like Jon, to not want to inconvenience her.

“Birdie,” Sandor’s gruff voice, broke into her thoughts. His voice was clear, in the midst of the noise, as he leaned close. “Encore’s about to start. We should get the hell out before the last song to avoid the crowd.”

Sansa nodded, “Just a minute Sandor.” Just then, the crowd erupted into loud shouts, as the band came back on stage for their final song. She saw Jon, instantly, of course. He looked thoroughly exhausted, but also completely at ease in front of the crowd. Sam, clapped Jon’s back, as he headed for his drum set and Tormund also swaggered by, chugging some water before grabbing his bass.

“ _Birdie_.” Sandor groused.

Sansa sighed, “Right,” She took one last look at Jon. And then her heart nearly stopped beating, as blue eyes met piercing, grey ones. He was staring right back at her.

She blinked twice, looking back hesitantly, to see if maybe, a fan’s sign had caught his attention, but there was nothing. And when she looked back at Jon, he gave a small smile. His hand fluttering up from his guitar to give a subtle wave of his fingers.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._  Sansa hadn’t expected this to happen, how in the hell had he spotted her with all the bright lights on the stage? Suddenly a thought, struck her. _You idiot,_ she internally cursed, _you really thought you could hide with just a baseball cap, when you have a huge bodyguard towering over you?_ Sansa, turned over her shoulder, glaring at her bodyguard, and cursing her mother for forcing her to take Sandor along.

“Sandor, I’m good! We can go!” She called out, panic taking a hold of her. Although the crowd’s noise was almost deafening, he heard her. Sandor grunted, with a nod, and began to move, to pave a path for her.

“Hold on.” Jon’s voice rang out clearly above the band, as he spoke into the mic. Sansa froze, at the command. She went still, her throat went dry. Was he really going to call her out, in front of an audience like this? She flushed, pulling at Sandor’s side, to make him pause. Jon’s bright eyes found hers again, his mouth moved discreetly but the word, directed towards her, was clear: _‘Stay’_.

“Hold on.” Jon repeated. “Before we end the night, we have one more song for you all.” A mixture of disappointed ‘awws’ and some ‘whoops’ went around the crowd, but everybody was buzzing with excitement. “You guys are the fucking best, thank you for all your support!” Everybody burst into raucous cheers.

The crowd began to calm down, as Tormund strummed the first few notes. Jon’s lips curved, and under the stage lights, Sansa could clearly make out the pink flush in his cheeks.

“This last one’s for you, Sans.”

Sansa’s face flamed bright red. Sandor let out a guffaw, hitting her lightly on the back, “Birdie, that’s you!”

Nobody seemed to pay attention to her, still unaware that she was among them, but she heard, from the two girls in front of her, “Sansa Stark? Wasn’t there a rumor that they broke up?”

The other girl snickered, “Guess not, if he’s out here dedicating songs to her. Fuck, she’s lucky.”

The conversation faded away, as Jon’s smooth voice broke through, paired perfectly with the thumping drums and the bass line.

_I wanna be your vacuum cleaner_

_Breathing in your dust_

_I wanna be your Ford Cortina_

_I will never rust_

Sansa brought down the brim of her baseball cap lower, hoping it would ease the intensity of Jon’s gaze, and lessen her embarrassment. It didn’t help, and she swore she spotted a smirk on Jon’s handsome face. She remembered this song very vividly. It was one of her favorites off the album. It was a love song.

_You call the shots babe, I just wanna be yours_

_Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought_

_Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours_

Knowing that he was singing _this_ song _to_ her was too much for her too handle. Every nerve felt like it was on fire, if spontaneous combustion was a real thing, Sansa was pretty sure that was about to happen. She bit down on her lip, as Jon brushed a stray curl out of his face. He was so goddamn pretty, she fumed. She’d been so stubborn and blind.

_Hold your red hair in deep devotion_

_At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean_

_I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours_

The signs had always been there, Jon was the one for her.

* * *

Afterwards, Sansa made her way backstage. The venue’s security, and the band’s manager recognized her, and they’d allowed her through. Plus, with Sandor at her back, casting a menacing presence, there really wasn’t much else they could do.

Tormund and Sam, had been in the hallway, and they both looked immensely pleased to see her.

“There you are Stark!” Tormund crowed, loudly, enveloping her in a giant bear hug. Sam had only smiled sweetly, when she quietly thanked him for convincing Jon to call her back. She’d known he played a part in it. They pointed towards Jon’s dressing room, and let her be.

Sansa knocked tentatively on it, her heart fluttering uncontrollably.

“Door’s open!” Jon called back.

She stepped through the door, finding him reclining on the couch, phone in hand. Jon had changed into his college sweatshirt, sweatpants, and even had his full-rim glasses on. He didn’t look up until she managed a quiet, “Jon,”

The change in his posture was immediate, and almost comical. He snapped to attention, and nearly banged his knee, standing up in surprise. “S-Sansa!”

Her nervousness ebbed away, a giggle escaping from her lips. “Did you think I’d run back home, after you called me out like that during, the encore?”

It was his turn to flush bright red. “About that, I don’t really know what came over me. I’m sorry, I put attention on you, and I just, I thought-It seemed right in the moment” He shook his head, entirely disappointed in himself. “How-how are you here?” This was the Jon Snow she knew. The bashful, unsure, man who fumbled his words, but was unfailingly sweet.

She stepped closer towards him, now so that only mere inches separated their bodies. “I took a plane. You said it yourself, you’re busy on tour, so I came out to see you. I didn’t want things to be left up in the air like that, and-and I wanted to see you.” She confessed.

“Yeah?” He breathed.

“Yeah.” She confirmed. “Are you happy to see me?” It meant to be a tease, but she also wanted to hear him say it as well, that he had wanted to see her.

“I always am.” He mumbled, looking away. She studied his face. His beard had grown thicker since she’d last seen him, and there were faint lines underneath his eyes.

Her lips pursed in disapproval, “You’re not getting much sleep, are you?”

Jon looked surprised at the turn of conversation, but he shrugged. “It’s ‘cause a certain red-haired girl keeps drunk calling me at night.”

Sansa laughed softly, “Hey. You were the drunk one, last time.” She went quiet then, “Did you mean it?” She asked, timidly. “Did you mean it, when you said you wanted it to be real?”

_Please. Say it._

“I meant it.”

The three words knocked the breath out of her lungs and she felt herself launching into Jon’s arms, throwing her arms around his neck haphazardly. “ _Oof_ , Sans!” His tone was chiding, but seconds later, she felt strong arms wrap around her waist, lovingly. Everything about Jon was loving. Especially, the way he nuzzled into the hollow of her throat, a content chuckle vibrating against her skin.

She pulled back, looking at him straight in the face. “I want to date you. For real this time.” She declared.

Jon’s lips pulled back into a pleased grin, and then his lips found hers. He kissed her so deeply, that when he finally drew back, Sansa was struggling to form one coherent thought, her eyes focused in again, on his lips, hungry for more. Jon was quick to oblige.

“This has been a long time coming, Sansa Stark.”

Sansa couldn’t agree more.

* * *

_Epilogue: 1 year later._

“We’re getting married.”

Catelyn Stark choked on her glass of wine, Ned Stark rubbed at his temples, and Arya had let out a chortle of laughter so intense, she was beginning to tear up. Bran looked up from his phone for 10 seconds and then shrugged. Only Rickon looked happy at the announcement, “They have free food, at weddings, right mom?”

Sansa looked on at her family with a glare, “Not one of you had an appropriate reaction. You guys should be happy!”

Jon, reached out to rub her shoulder, in soothing circles, but it was clear with one look, that he was also struggling to stifle a chuckle. God, he and Arya were like peas in a pod. Arya was still wiping tears from her eyes, “Who would’ve thought?” She was nearly wheezing.

The Stark matriarch was struggling to compose herself, “It’s just all so sudden, dear. I mean, these things, shouldn’t be taken lightly-“

“We’re not taking this lightly.” Robb cut in, looking equally irritated at his family. “I proposed to Margaery last week, she said ‘yes’, so we’re getting married. At our wedding.”

“Yes,” Bran looked up, commenting dryly, “That usually, is, how it goes.”

Sansa smiled warmly at Robb, “I’m happy for you! You and her are perfect together, it’ll be a lovely ceremony.” It’d only been 3 months since it had been Robb’s turn to come clean about his secret relationship. The whole family had managed to take the news in stride, but it seemed like marriage was a whole other ballgame, no one had been expecting.

“You two only started dating 3 months ago, that’s hardly enough time to know somebody.” Catelyn protested. “Ned! Say something!”

Eddard Stark coughed, “It’s been about a year. They were dating for a long time, before they told us, Cat.” Robb beamed, proud, his father had remembered. “If you truly love this girl, I see no reason to argue, son. She’s a lovely woman.”

“She was with Cersei’s boy!” Catelyn fidgeted, worrying.

“Mom” Sansa sighed, “I dated him too, remember?” Never in a million years, did Sansa ever think she would be defending Margaery Tyrell. But, ever since Jon and her, had stumbled upon Robb and Margaery getting hot-and-heavy at the Stark lake house, things had changed between the two women. She had grudgingly gone out with Margaery on a lunch date, and found herself admiring the vivaciousness and wit of the Tyrell heiress.

There was an ambitious streak that Sansa had been wary of, wanting to protect Robb from any manipulations, but she recognized the look the dreamy look that came into Margaery’s eyes whenever Robb was brought up. It was the same way, Sansa looked at Jon. They had become quick friends after that, and Jeyne embraced Margaery as a friend as well (though to be fair, Jeyne loved everybody).

“She’s a good person, mom.” Sansa assured. “She’s the one that helped me get the part for that big movie, remember? She gave me tips for the callback, and ran through the lines with me giving me feedback. I mean, she’s trying with everybody! She drove all the way to King’s Landing for Arya’s competition, and she even gave Bran the number of that tech business owner to help him look for an internship.”

Rickon bounced on his toes, “Plus she gives nice hugs, and smells like flowers.”

Robb chuckled and reached out to ruffle Rickon’s wild curls. “I like that too, about her.” He turned to his mother, “We’re not planning to elope, we’ll take time to plan the wedding. I just wanted to share the news. I’m excited about this.” He shrugged, a dopey, love-stricken smile on his face.

That broke Catelyn Stark. She nodded, tearfully. “Of course! I’m happy that you’re excited about this, and I’m-I’m pleased for you, Robb. Just my over-protective mother instincts kicking in.” She got up to envelop him in a tight hug. The rest of the Starks and Jon looked on with knowing smiles. Their mother loved them all equally, they knew that, but the eldest child would always hold a soft spot in her heart.

Later, when it was time to leave for their dinner reservation, Jon gave her a kiss on the cheek, as he helped her with her jacket. “That was nice of you, earlier, helping Robb and all.”

“Oh, yeah.” She shrugged. “I mean, he really loves her, and I want him to be happy. I also, _never_ want to walk in on them again.” She shuddered at the memory, “So the sooner they get married and get their own place, the happier I will be, too.”

Jon made a face, “Still scarred from that.” He hummed in agreement. “Shall we?” he gestured towards the door.

Sansa nodded, turning her head towards the staircase. “Arya, we’re leaving! Text me what snacks you want for the movie!” She shouted.

“Yeah, yeah!” Arya’s head peeked out from the second floor bannister. “You two lovebirds better be back before 10. Gendry, Bran, and Rickon are conspiring to vote we watch Transformers, and if I have to watch another Michael Bay movie, I’m going to disown myself from this family.”

Sansa snorted, “Always dramatic.” She shook her head, moving out the door with Jon. They hurriedly got into the car, to escape the biting Northern wind.

“Do you ever think about it?” Jon suddenly asked.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Jon had the annoying tendency to ask questions without any context whatsoever. “Jon, you’re doing it again.”

He blinked, “Oh, right. Yeah.” He cleared his throat, “Do you ever think about, us-marrying?”

Sansa nearly got whiplash, turning so fast to face him. “Oh my god,” he was bright pink, and she looked him up and down, scanning for a ring. “Is this your way of asking me-“

“No, no!” Jon waved his hands, “God, I’m an idiot. I mean, I just want to know, if you’ve thought about it. Because I have.” He added, looking earnest.

“And?” Sansa prompted, her brow arched.

Jon shrugged helplessly, “Sans, to be honest, I’ve wanted to marry you since that first Thanksgiving dinner, when your mom thought I was Robb’s boyfriend.”

Sansa laughed until her ribs hurt. “Jon, I love you.” She admitted, through gasps of laughter. “And whenever you’re ready to ask me, you know what my answer will be.”

It was his turn to grin now, “You won’t go off, and find some fake fiancé to use against me?” He teased.

“Oh no,” Sansa smiled, leaning in to half-kiss, and half-giggle against his jawline. “I’ll be too busy, being yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you, thank you for sticking through this entire story!! i can't believe it's all finished. i've had a bunch of fun writing this story, and i hope it's been fun for you as well to read <3 i always read and appreciate every single comment, so please leave one if you have the time!! until the next fic :)


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